WHISPERS OF GOLD & GLORY

THE REVIVAL OF THE HOLBROOKE AND THE NATIONAL EXCHANGE

There are places where history clings to the walls like perfume—subtle, undeniable, intoxicating. In the twin towns of Grass Valley and Nevada City, two grande dames have been restored not as relics, but as living, breathing embodiments of the past: The Holbrooke Hotel and The National Exchange Hotel.

Both properties, carefully uncovered and meticulously transformed, are not simply restorations. They are acts of devotion. Their rebirths, completed in 2021, are less about looking backward and more about translating the soul of an era into something timeless.

At the heart of Grass Valley, The Holbrooke stands like a seasoned cowboy at the bar—weathered yet magnetic, proud of the stories etched into every scar.

Originally opened in 1862 after surviving multiple fires that leveled the town, The Holbrooke has served cowboys, gold miners, politicians, and wayward dreamers for over 150 years. Its restoration, led by Anne L’Esperance of An Ellipse Design, Doug Washington of Doug Washington Design, and Bri Ingram, pays homage to its hard-lived past while infusing it with a rebellious, rugged refinement.

Walk through the heavy front doors and you feel it immediately: the stone walls, once concealed beneath layers of plaster, now stand proudly exposed, telling stories of the past. The lobby, once a maze of small rooms, is now a grand, central gathering place where the rough texture of history meets the polished gleam of custom mahogany and brass.

The Golden Gate Saloon, the oldest continuously operating bar west of the Mississippi, has been lovingly preserved. The copper back bar, rumored to have sailed around Cape Horn or traveled from Italy, remains untouched, while a new marble bar top promises another century of lively conversation and clinking glasses. Belt-driven fans spin lazily above a mahogany coffered ceiling, stirring the slow, weighty heat of summers long past.

The rooms upstairs tell quieter stories. Original beamed ceilings, rescued from a stamp mill, preside over a curated mix of antique armoires, locally sourced art, and hand-painted wayfinding signs. The Holbrooke’s most infamous suite, Room 18, once billed as the Presidential Suite, carries a mischievous rumor: five U.S. presidents may have slept here—or perhaps only a few prizefighters impersonating them after too many rounds at the bar.

Outside, the veranda has been rebuilt. Safer, yes, but no less romantic, evoking the slow sway of rocking chairs and the murmur of drifting voices.

And then there is The Iron Door—part brothel, part speakeasy, all legend—where the gold once flowed through tunnels hidden beneath the saloon, ferrying fortunes from hand to hand under cover of night.

The Holbrooke does not attempt to sanitize its past. It wears it proudly, like a scuffed pair of boots: a little wild, a little dangerous, and utterly unforgettable.

Just up the road in Nevada City, The National Exchange Hotel offers a different kind of seduction where the rough grit of the gold rush gives way to Victorian glamour steeped in velvet, oil paint, and candlelight.

Built in 1856, “The National” was once the social and financial nerve center of a booming mining town. Mark Twain signed the ledger. Lola Montez, scandalous actress and dancer, held court in its rooms. It has seen brothels, bank deals, parades, and heartbreak.

Today, after a floor-to-rafters renovation by L’Esperance, Washington, Ingram, and dozens of local artisans, the National is not a museum—it’s a reimagined love letter to an era when life was bolder, dress hems were longer, and reputations were far more fragile.

Rich brocades and jewel-toned wallpapers line the hallways. The Grand Lounge gleams under a ceiling of black-stained beams that mirror the intricate coffered ceiling design. The Empire Room, a private event space inspired by the Empire Mine’s golden legacy, drips with understated elegance.

The registration desk, once the town’s hub for stagecoaches and telegrams, is now a glamorous bar, crafted from salvaged radiators and polished to a gleaming luster. Upstairs, in rooms where once the elite of the frontier stayed (or the less savory slipped between sheets), intricate floral murals and carefully restored Victorian furnishings offer a cocoon of decadent quiet.

The art curation, a passion project of Anne L’Esperance and Bri Ingram, draws heavily from local archives, bringing whispers of the past into every corner, from vintage photographs framed anew to storytelling artifacts sourced from the town’s own back pockets.

At Lola, the hotel’s restaurant, the spirit of the original diva herself lives on. The menu is French-accented, the atmosphere is lushly rebellious, and Doug Washington’s custom light fixtures throw a sultry glow across the room.

What makes these restorations extraordinary isn’t just the aesthetics, though they are breathtaking. It’s the commitment to authenticity without falling prey to nostalgia.

At both the Holbrooke and the National Exchange, the design teams chose to highlight the imperfections, the contradictions, and the myths that have always made the American West so captivating. They honored the buildings’ bones, in some cases literally digging through centuries of makeshift upgrades to uncover original brick, timber, and iron.

It took vision, certainly. But it also took courage: the courage to embrace a little roughness, a little wildness, and a lot of poetry.

Grass Valley and Nevada City are not frozen in amber. They are still living, changing places. But thanks to the reverent, romantic, and slightly rebellious efforts behind these two hotels, visitors can now step through their doors and feel something rare—not just the past, but a living, breathing piece of California’s soul.

Here, the gold is not just buried in the ground. It’s in the walls. In the floors. In the stories whispered from velvet chairs and worn barstools. It’s in the thrill of a night spent under a stamped-tin ceiling, knowing that you’re part of a continuum stretching back through time.

And if you listen closely, you can almost hear the saloon doors swing open, the laughter ringing out, the clink of another glass raised to fortune, folly, and the glorious unknown.