in some unaccountable manner destroyed. It is believed, however, that the spirit of these surveys is preserved in Jared Brooke's plat, which was adopted in 1812. Previous to this the absence of any official document of this kind produced much annoyance, dispute and litigation, in regard to titles and boundaries. The out courses of this survey, as represented by Dr. McMurtrie, are "from 35 poles above the mouth of Beargrass Creek, on the bank of the Ohio river, S. 83, W. 35 poles to the mouth of the creek, thence N. 87, W. 120 poles, N. 50, W. 110 poles to a heap of stones and a square hole cut in the flat rock, thence (the division line) S. 88, E. 769 to a white oak, poplar and beech, N. 37, W. 390 to the beginning; no variation." This was divided into six streets, running East and West, and twelve streets crossing these others at right angles. The squares so made were, up to Green Street, divided into lots of a little more than half an acre, and South of that into five, ten and twenty acre lots. In all the earlier proceedings of the legislature in regard to the new town we find constant mention made of public squares and grounds; and in the original plat, a slip of 180 feet South of Green Street, and running from First to Twelfth Streets, was reserved for a public promenade and pleasure ground. It is a matter of great regret that this reservation was not really made. An immense common like this, with the forest trees which were then upon it left standing, would now be an invaluable addition to the town, and would enable us to boast of having the most. beautiful city in America. We cannot help but wonder that the early inhabitants of the city should have per

mitted those in authority to commit this gross outrage upon taste and propriety. Had this slip continued in reserve, how beautiful might it now have become! As taste, aided by wealth, began to have its hold among the citizens, it would have been upon the fronts of this great artery that those beautiful churches, public buildings and dwellings, now scattered over so large a space, would have been erected. Here for a distance of more than a mile would have been placed a continuous range of palace-like structures; and here, under the shade of trees "the growth of quite a century" would the gay, the brave and the fair have sat, walked or rode. What a picture would have been presented here on a midsummer night, or at the close of an autumn day! Groups of merry children disporting around, gaily dressed ladies and dashing beaux, a throng of proud equipages and horsemen, the sound of the infant's prattle, girlhood's ringing laugh, the mingling of joyous voices, and above all and beyond all the tall and sombre forms of majestic trees raised in relief against the sky, the green carpeted earth and smiling little flowers, and all this in the very heart of a great city-all forms a picture upon which the fancy loves to dwell, and a picture which might readily have been realized had not that inordinate and purely American worship of Gain blotted it from the canvass almost before the designer had expressed it with his pencil.

Nor was a flagrant want of taste the worst feature in this. The whole of the present site of the city at that early day was intersected with ponds of stagnant water. The second bank had something of a descent towards

the interior, and the soil, though alluvious, was of suffi cient tenacity to retain the water which fell in rain. The result was that the whole of this valley from Beargrass to Salt river was filled with these ponds; and, as a necessary consequence, miasmata were bred, which produced a great deal of sickness, more especially with strangers. So great indeed was the influence thus induced that acclimation was then considered as necessary here as it now is in New Orleans or on the coast of Africa. Many of the present citizens of Louisville will be surprised to know that this very city, now so celebrated for its healthiness as to make its salubrity an inducement to immigration from all parts of the country, was once known as "the Graveyard of the Ohio." The city worthies who took upon themselves to sell "the Slip" in lots, had at that time no data to induce them to believe in the future healthfulness of their place and yet they must have perceived the increasing prosperity of the town; hence it became almost criminal in them to put away what then seemed the only barrier to disease, and almost to invite its approaches by allowing the city to be compactly built without room for the pure and wholesome circulation of air, but shutting up, as it were, disease and death within their very walls. As the value of property began to increase, however, these gentlemen, actuated only by a desire for present gain, put aside all these considerations and, having divided the slip into four parts exposed it for sale. It comprised all that part of the city now embraced between the north side of Green and the south side of Grayson Streets, but extended, as before said, up to First Street. It is true

that great blame was attached to the trustees for their action in this matter at the time, and some movement was made toward trying to destroy the sale by legal means, this however was never actually resorted to, and possession has long since confirmed the titles to all lots lying within its limits. Thus was lost to the city one of the most valuable, if not the very most valuable of all its possessions. The earliest purchasers of this property were Messrs. Johnson, Croghan, Anderson and Campbell.

As we have already referred to the numerous ponds scattered throughout the city, it may not be improper at this point to recall the site of some of them, if only to show how completely the natural disadvantages of the place have been overcome by the energy of its inhabitants. The first and most important of these was called the "Long Pond." It commenced at the present corner of Sixth and Market Streets, and inclining a little toward the South-West, extended as far as the old Hope Distillery, on or near Sixteenth Streets. The indentation in the ground, still observable, in the alley which commences at Seventh Street and lies between Market and Jefferson Streets, was the former bed of this pond. In the winter, when it was frozen over, this little lake was the scene of many a merry party. On the moonlight evenings, numbers of ladies and gentlemen were to be seen skimming over its surface, the gentlemen on skates and the ladies in chairs, the backs of which were laid upon the ice and the chairs fastened by ropes to the waists of the skaters. And thus they dashed along at furious speed over the glassy surface; beaux and belles,

with loud voices and ringing laugh-and the merriment of the occasion was only increased when some dashing fellow, in his endeavors to surpass in agility and daring all his compeers, fell prostrate to the ice, or broke through it into the water beneath.

The next in importance to the one above referred to, was known as Gwathmey's or Grayson's Pond. It began on Centre Street just in the rear of the First Presbyterian church, and extended Westwardly half way to Seventh Street. Its form was that of a long elipse; and it was carefully kept by its owners for fish.-Its margin was surrounded by lofty trees and the turf grew to the very edge of the water, which, fed by some internal spring, was always clear and pure. This pond was really a beautiful spot and formed a delightful lounging-place for the idle or the meditative, and one which neither of these classes neglected. It was the scene of all the baptisms performed here in an early day, and no place could be better adapted for this purpose. Its grassy edges afforded an agreeable resting-place for the spectators, while its shape allowed every one to see, hear and partake in the exercises.

Beside these two principal lakes, there were innumerable others, some containing water only after heavy rains and others standing full at all times. Market Street from the corner of Third down was the site of one of these; Third Street between Jefferson and Green of another; Jefferson Street near the corner of Fourth of another, and so on almost ad infinitum. A map of the city as it was sixty or even thirty years ago, would present somewhat the appearance of an archipelago, a