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To collect, preserve, and share history and culture associated with Louis Dupuy's Hotel de Paris, and serve as a catalyst for heritage tourism.
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Showing posts with label East Courtyard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label East Courtyard. Show all posts

Monday, August 31, 2026

Where Did All the Dirt Go?:  A Theory About the Excavation and Making of Hotel de Paris

One of the most intriguing questions surrounding the evolution of Louis Dupuy's Hotel de Paris is what happened to all of the rock and soil excavated during the property's expansion?

Over time, Hotel de Paris grew dramatically from the ca. 1870 Powers Building (a false-front two story commercial structure) into a spacious Gilded Age hospitality complex of well-appointed rooms, efficient work areas, and discreet storage spaces located in two buildings.  Historical accounts document the involvement of Chinese laborers in some of this work, particularly in the excavation and construction associated with the expansion of the property.

Excavation on a rocky building site in Georgetown, Colorado would have produced an enormous quantity of displaced material, which proprietor Louis Dupuy confirmed in a newspaper article.  Rock had to be broken. Soil had to be moved. Foundations and a cellar had to be carved into mountain terrain.  But where did all this debris go?

My theory is that much of it may never have left the property.  Instead, the material excavated may have been systematically reused as part of the remarkable physical expansion of Hotel de Paris—providing fill, foundation material, and structural support for the Annex Building, kitchen expansion, east addition, warehouse, and the stone walls enclosing two exterior courtyards.  This possibility makes both practical and economic sense.

East Courtyard wall under construction (1890)

Building Without Waste


In nineteenth-century Georgetown, hauling tons of rock and soil away from a construction site would have required considerable labor, equipment, and expense. Hotel de Paris, however, was a constantly evolving enterprise operated on a constrained parcel of land. Every available inch of space mattered.  So, why transport useful material away when it could be used immediately?

Excavated stone could become construction material. Smaller rock and rubble could serve as fill beneath floors or behind retaining walls. Soil could be redistributed to level uneven areas or create usable building platforms.  Seen through this lens, Hotel de Paris was not simply expanded—it may have literally been built from the ground that was excavated to make room for it.

Rubble Walls May Hold an Answer


The most visible expression of this theory may be found in the hotel's two courtyards.  The substantial stone walls that define portions of the outdoor space have long been associated with the work of Chinese workers. This construction represents an extraordinary example of skilled labor embedded directly into the historic landscape.  But perhaps these walls tell an even larger story.

Could the stone used in their construction have come directly from excavation occurring elsewhere on the property?  If so, the walls are more than architectural features. They may represent part of an integrated system of construction in which excavation and building occurred simultaneously. Material removed from one area was not discarded as waste but transformed into the infrastructure necessary to support the hotel's growth.

A Complex Built in Layers


The Hotel de Paris we see today was not constructed all at once. It evolved.  The Annex Building, kitchen expansion, east addition, warehouse, and cellar walls represent different phases in the property's transformation from a modest commercial building into one of the most celebrated establishments in the Rocky Mountains.  That evolution required more than architectural ambition. It required moving mountains—sometimes quite literally.

The labor involved in excavating foundations and reshaping the site was physically demanding. Chinese laborers, whose contributions to the development of Colorado communities have too often been overlooked, may have played an essential role not only in removing material but also in determining how that material could be reused.  Their work may therefore survive throughout Hotel de Paris in ways we have not fully recognized.

Rock pile near Lion Gate (1905)

Reading the Buildings Differently


This theory invites us to reconsider what constitutes a historic artifact.  We tend to focus on humanmade objects: furniture, wallpaper, clothing, documents, and architectural details. But the very ground beneath Hotel de Paris—and the material concealed behind walls and beneath floors—may also contain evidence of the people who built and transformed the site.

Perhaps the Annex rests partly upon excavated spoils.  Perhaps the kitchen expansion incorporates fill removed from another portion of the property.  Perhaps the east wing and warehouse occupy ground reshaped with material that was once considered excess.  And perhaps the courtyard walls themselves are constructed from stone pulled directly from the site during the excavation process.

These possibilities cannot yet be presented as established fact. They remain a theory requiring additional archaeological investigation, documentary research, and close examination of the buildings.  But historical interpretation often begins with a question.  Where did all the dirt go?

At Hotel de Paris, the answer may be hiding in plain sight.  The rocks beneath our feet, behind our walls, and supporting the buildings themselves may not simply be part of Georgetown's landscape. They may represent the physical remains of an extraordinary process of adaptation, ingenuity, and labor.  If this theory proves correct, it will add another remarkable dimension to the Hotel de Paris story: the built environment was not merely constructed in the mountains.  In many ways, it may have been constructed from the mountains.