Thursday, May 14, 2026

Cincinatti, Ohio in 1870 - Part 1 by Denise M. Colby

 
Since my next book release has part of the story in Cincinnati during 1870, I found myself doing a lot of research of this city and wanted to share some of the amazing little tidbits I found:

 


map of Cincinnati, 1870


Public Transportation:

 

In 1870, Cincinnati had a horse-bus, otherwise called a horse-drawn omnibus for public transportation. One would pay a fee and be carried from one stop to another. When the first horse-bus started (before 1850), they were not too reliable and it was still faster to walk, but by the late 1850s, steel rails were installed throughout the city, so if a carriage had steel wheels it could be pulled by a team of horses or mules easier.

 

In one article I found there were six different companies managing separate lines all around Cincinnati in 1870.

 

Sometimes the buses were built as double deckers (I can only imagine!)

 

This picture I found looks similar to an early design of a cable car (the very first successful cable car was invented and operated in San Francisco in 1873, but Cincinnati had some shortly after that too).

 


What a small omnibus looked like in Cincinnati, 1870


I have my characters using this omnibus transportation in my most recent release.

 

 

The Cincinnati Conservatory:

 

The Cincinnati Observatory was built in a neighborhood high on a hill called Mount Ida. The location was renamed to Mount Adams when President John Quincy Adams presided over the dedication.

 

This observatory was unique for many reasons. The original 1845 telescope was the largest refractor in the western hemisphere, and the third largest in the world (the lens was found in Germany and shipped to Ohio). It also was called the people’s telescope because it was the first one open to the public (see photo below).

 

Known as ‘The Birthplace of American Astronomy’, the Cincinnati Observatory and first director MacKnight Mitchel published the first astronomical publication, The Sidereal Messenger. Cleveland Abbe, the second director, published the nations’s first weather forecasts and assisted in the creation of the National Weather Service.
 

 

But wait, there’s more.

 

Most people relied on church bells, jeweler clocks, and pocket watches to keep time. And most communities in different cities had their own time zone. But the invention of the railroads called for some sort of standard time (which they had their own system to build a consistent time). Imagine if the time your city kept was different than the train? I’m sure many people missed their train due to no standard time.

 

At the time most observatories used a sundial or a shadow clock, including the observatory in Cincinnati. But the city was so large that the these means meant time could be off if you were situated on the west side versus the east side. So the observatory received a transit telescope from the United States Coast Survey which allowed them to observe the crossing of the sun at its highest point in the day more precisely (called solar time). Professor Abbe coordinated with local jewelry shops to help regulate time around the city, thus keeping everyone on the same time. Thus making the Cincinnati Observatory the official time keeper in all of Cincinnati (I estimated the population to be about 215,000 people in 1870 - ranked the 9th largest in the US).

 

Later (1873) when the observatory was moved five miles east of the city to a place called Mt. Lookout, and they needed a new way to communicate the time around the city (not everyone could see it now), so with the help of the Army Signal Service, it built a time ball (think New York’s New Year’s Eve ball). At noon, every day, a five-foot canvas ball was hoisted up a 60-foot pole in three stages - halfway (11:45am), top (11:55am), dropping at exactly noon, signaling the correct time. The Time Ball was used through the mid-1880s.


 

 All of this is to say that the Cincinnati atronomical observatory was the only source for exact time in Cincinnati. If you check out the website to the observatory, it states that it has been recently restored and is still fully functioning. To learn even more about time balls, you can check out this website document which is full of details.

 

One of my characters uses the time-ball in my story (not exactly the right year - but since it’s fiction, I wanted to incorporate this fascinating historical tidbit).

 

 


Women’s College:

 

The Western Female Institute (1832-1837) operated in the neighborhood of Walnut Hills. It was founded by Catharine Beecher (yes, older sister to Harriot Beecher Stowe). The school was intended to train teachers for the western frontier. Due to several reasons, it closed after five years. But it was the early foundation for future schools including the American Woman’s Educational Association.

 

Catharine Beecher (1800-1878) advocated for women’s roles as teachers and mothers. She believed providing professional training to women would allow them to become independent professionals. Schools before this mostly focused on fine arts and languages, but Catherine’s schools offered a full range of subjects. She also introduced calisthenics to her students to improve women’s health (and to negate the idea of women fragility).

 

She established the American Woman’s Educational Association in 1852 and although it did not have a location in Cincinnati, from what I understand, she ran it from the area. As an association it provided funding to help establish other women’s colleges in Iowa, Illinois, and Wisconsin that taught with this focus. Its sole purpose was to recruit and train teachers for frontier schools (sending women West to civilize the young - a direct quote).

 

In my fictional story world, I established a school in Cincinnati supported by this association that sent my teachers west to California. I had Catherine Beecher teaching these teachers directly.


There's more - but I save the rest to share in next month’s post. In the meantime here is more about my next release (that I gathered all this research for).

 

 

 Book 4 in the Best-laid Plans Series releases May 26, 2026

 

 California, 1870. Pastor William Baker built his life on steady faith and safe choices, but the arrival of Lydia Spencer upends everything. Independent and outspoken Lydia is unlike any woman he’s ever known. Lydia is a Pinkerton detective, undercover as a schoolteacher while tracking a dangerous crime boss. She’s determined to protect her friends in Washton even if it means keeping her distance from the kind, steadfast pastor who sees too much. But when Will and Lydia are thrown together in a search for truth they find themselves fighting not only for justice, but for a future neither had planned.

 

 

Denise M. Colby writes historical romance sweetened with faith, hope, and love. She finds history fascinating and contemplates often how it was to live in the 1800's. Her debut novel, When Plans Go Awry, is a 2025 Carol Award finalist. Sign up for her newsletter at www.denisemcolby.com or follow Denise on FacebookInstagramBookbubPinterest, or GoodReads.

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