The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1871-10-19
rHE GREAT oosrLAenAr1oN.


1 OhAAL COHE
Desoriptioa Of ths Ruins a. seen by rri-
buns Corresponaent-
The following is Furnished by cor
Respondent cfthe New York Tribune +:
6 1 have jnst returned from the ghost
Hest promenade ever seen in the world
From Congress street to Lincoln Park
and beyond to Wright's Grove-four
miles of what was last week the busi-
est and most vigorous city in the West
there is now one widespread desc
lation, marred by scorched and cal
cined chimneys, like a wintry plain
with fail of whitening ashes. The
vasfness and monotony of the view is
as decreasing as that of the desert.
Formerly every quarter of the city
had its distinctive character, and along
the banks of Lake Michigan to the
south a0frthe river rose. the stately
| mansions of the men whose energy
and industy had made Chicago what
| it was. Few streets in any city could
present so uniform display of wealth
and taste in their residences. as Wa
bash and Michigan avenues. In the
\ square bounded on three sides by the
Lake and the Chicago River, and on
the south by Van Bhren street. there
were embraced SOME of the finest bns-
iness houses ON the Continent and a
higher average of beautiful and costly
architecture than had ever been APP
piled in the world to purposes of trade ;
along the river, on either side, the tall
ungainiy forms of the elevators those
monstrOus groWths of the commerce
of the Northwest mirrored their
awkward angles in the turbid2 water,
vexed by unnumbered keels in the
North Division !; the ground to the
west occupied by large manufacturing
establishments, and to the east by the
modest and tasteful houses OF the
trading classes, all this variety and
distinction have been obliterated in
day by the leyeling hand of the con-
.hagration. The loveiiest garden on the
avenue, just below my window, is as
squalid and miserable with the wild
trampiing of the hoofs of this disaster
as any back yard of aa,soapl boiler on
Canal street. The wretched tenement
houses which sheltered the laboring
poor, are now clean and white in their
ashes, and their chimneysr form q
shapeless monument. There is equal
ity at least betweenghoYel and palace
in their shrouds of desolation. What
most impresses one is thea aspect of
the burnt districts its utter loneliness.
The debris which encountered the
streets the day after the fire has, in q
great measure. been cleared away
The sidewalks are somewhat Uttered
still by the. ruins, but circulation is
perfectly free throughout the burnt
district In the center. of the city
4 1aa, so foir1 l1n, Of
spectators Longing and chatting
among the ragged and tottering walls
There are many of the buildings in
this quarter which were SO strongly
and sol1dly built that their shells still
stand stubbornly defiant after allsthe
fury of the conflagration. The Tri-
6une Office, tine Custom house and the
Court house are still imposing in their
ruins, which took twenty years to
build and twenty minutes to- burn,
The great Pacific Hotel and the Lyon
block attract most attention from the
@sthetic tourists and idlers. They are
certainly very picturesque. and one
may say even beautiful, with their
cold, gray walls, blotched here and
there with an angry stain of smoke,
like patch of lichens, and showing
the pale blue of the 3 mottledl sky
through their riffs and wide windows.
But when you get away from the GEN.
ter of the town, and cross over to the
North Division, it is most striking to
see how sudden q silence and solitude
has fallen upon this great and once
beautiful suburb. oY ou can drive for
an hour over the smooth, firm Nicol-
son pavement, very little damaged by
the fire, and see scarcely living
thing in all the ashen waste. I saw
an old man up to his kneesin the ash
es of an extensive brewery fishing out
some pots and kettles. He looked up
and dropped his rusty-looking tin
ware as if he had been caught robbing
q grave. A few clever fellows have
already invented an apparatus for lift
ing safes out of the fire, and you may
occasionally meet them moving about
in search ofia job but throughout
these miles of wide streets there is
less life, less movement, than ton
country road and the people who
meet unconsciously salute each other
as in desolate. forest! The houses in,
this region being, in great measure,
dwellings and workshops, were not
so strongly built as in the central part
of the city, and so few of the walls
have resisted the fury of the flames,
They have fallen fat and Scarcely
more than fill the cellars, SO that, as
won drive over the streets they seem
like icauseways, raised to traverse the
abyss of the fire and ashes on either.
hand. The chief land marks are the
skeleton churches, whose walls still
stand open toifthe sunlight and the.
breeze haunting the scene like the
ghosts of temples, which have suffer-
ed ed,martyrdom. The slim and grace
full tower of the Water-works also re-
mains domineeringo the stricken plain
and guarding the entrance of that
enormous tunnel which is the glory
OF Chicago; but if You cross the river
once more and go into the West Side,
into the portiou of the city which sur
wives, you. can understand why there
is such solitude among theruins there.
Energetic and practical people have
no time to waste among the tombs,-
AS soon as the fate OF their houses
and places of business was decided
they hurried lover to the, quarter of,
the city which still stood and began
all overagain their battle with fortune.
Every available gfound-floer and gar
ret in Jefferson, Court and Clinton
fStTccIs, StLtl Ill tudb HClSuOOFllOOu HAS
been seized upon by the 9dispossessed
establishments. The Tribune and the
Journal are there established side by.
side. The Post, and Republican, and
Times, ohaEes all foand Temporary
roosts, whence their chant of receilIe
and defiance is sEas loud and cheering as
ever in their nest'prosperous days
The hotels have migrated also, carry
ing their names and their traditions
with them. The great business houses
arescrowding the relics of their stocks,
into shops that burst with richness !.
and far down Michigan avenue, in
that safe stretch of the elake side that
lies beyond Michigan Terrace, the last
and lloyeliest sacrifice to the flames,
you see, the names of banksandinshr-
ance companies hastily serawled upon
tin shingles andihung at the doors of
tdccorous private houses On the low