Most Cincinnatians know our hilly city once boasted five inclines: Price Hill, Fairview, Bellevue, Mount Auburn and Mount Adams. Here are some lesser-known facts:



Cincinnati Stole The Idea From Pittsburgh

Our upstream neighbor installed its first inclined railway in 1864. Although that first incline carried nothing but coal for several years, it was soon adapted to passenger service. Pittsburgh had three functional inclines before Cincinnati’s first went into operation. Pittsburgh still has two functioning inclines. The Monongahela Incline is 150 years old this year.

The Cincinnati Incline Era Lasted Nearly 76 Years

From 12 May 1872, when the Mount Auburn Incline first went into service, until the last bus debarked from the Mount Adams Incline on 16 April 1948, more than three-quarters of a century had passed. By the time the inclines ceased running, years of deferred maintenance had rendered them unsafe and in need of expensive renovation. Entranced by the automobile, Cincinnati demurred, to our historic loss.

Early Incline Trucks Had Names

The platforms that carried passengers, streetcars and wagons up and down the inclined planes were known as “trucks.” On the Mount Adams and Price Hill inclines, at least, the trucks had names. The Mount Adams trucks were named for financier Nicholas Longworth and Martin Baum, an early Cincinnati mayor. The Price Hill trucks were named after owner William Price’s daughters, “Highland Mary” and “Lily of the Valley.”

Cincinnati’s Inclines Suffered Only One Fatal Accident

They called it the Mt. Auburn Horror, the day when the passenger car of the city’s first incline rocketed downhill and shattered into flinders at the top of Main Street, ending six lives. It was noon on 15 Oct 1889, and the busy incline had just carried nine passengers to the top of the hill. The steam-powered lift engine squealed as the car neared the summit and the operator panicked as the brakes failed. He pulled on the lever with all his might but the car slammed into the structure at the top of the hill. The cables snapped and the car shot downhill in free fall. At bottom, the car crashed through a pair of wrought iron gates with such violence that the roof was sent sailing down the street and bodies bounced in every direction. Of the nine passengers, six died of horrible injuries. The incline never recovered. Although it resumed service five months later, passengers sought alternative routes and the Mount Auburn incline closed in 1898.

Manure Saved A man’s Life In One Incline Wreck

The Price Hill Incline was really two separate funiculars – one for passengers and one for freight. On 2 October 1906, Green Township farm boy Joe Strassel and his two-horse wagon got on at State Street, followed by a Price Hill coal merchant, Edward Brisker, with a two-horse wagon filled with sand. The cable snapped when the incline truck was six feet from the summit. The car plummeted earthward. Strassel somersaulted into his load of manure, while Brisker dove into his pile of sand. Miraculously, both survived the 800 foot fall. Unfortunately, the four horses had to be shot.

The Inclines Were Loud, Really Loud

The Bellevue Incline was located about 150 feet west of the old University of Cincinnati building on McMicken Street. Even at that distance, the incline trucks were so loud that professors had to pause their lectures every ten minutes or so while noisy cars rattled up and down the slope.

UC’s Medical Students Got Revenge On The Noisy Incline

When UC’s medical college occupied the old building next to the Bellevue Incline students would occasionally toss fingers and toes from cadavers they were dissecting onto the passing incline cars.

There’s A Detailed Scale Model Of The Mount Adams Incline

Just before the Mount Adams Incline was demolished, the late Charles H. Lambert took exacting measurements and built a fully functional scale model in his basement. Lambert’s model has been displayed at the John Hauck House, Loveland Historical Museum and other venues.

Cincinnati’s Inclines Led To Hilltop Resorts

Only the unsung Fairview Incline lacked a resort at its upper terminus. The Bellevue Incline ran up to Bellevue House, the Mount Auburn Incline to the Lookout House, the Mount Adams Incline to the Highland House and the Price Hill Incline to the Price Hill House.

One Hilltop Resort Refused To Serve Alcohol

To build his incline, William Price borrowed money from his father, Rees Price (for whom Price Hill is named). Father Price was a teetotaler and a vegetarian – except for apples, because God forbade Adam and Eve to eat them. To keep Dad happy, Price the younger maintained a dry house, leading a saloon at the bottom of the incline to rename itself as the Last Chance Saloon. Price Hill earned the nickname “Buttermilk Mountain.”

The Incline Resorts Used All Sorts Of Gimmicks To Attract Customers

Cincinnati’s hilltop resorts were huge, each able to entertain thousands of customers at a time. Some went high-class, with symphonic concerts. Others relied on fireworks and manned balloon launches. In 1877, the Lookout House imported a beluga whale from Labrador. The poor beast brought out the crowds, but did not survive long.

Incline fares were expensive

Around 1920, fares for the inclines ran between 20 cents and 30 cents. That doesn’t sound like a lot, but it’s equivalent to $2.50 to $4.00 today. Some inclines could not accommodate trolley cars, so passengers had to pay a fare to the incline, pay the incline fare, then pay a fare when they got off the incline.

The Inclines’ First Competition Came From Cable Cars

It’s true. Cincinnati once had San Francisco-style cable cars. The local street car company, in an effort to avoid paying incline fares, brought a San Francisco engineer to Cincinnati. He helped design and build cable traction systems to pull cars up Gilbert Avenue and the Sycamore Street Hill.

Cincinnati Inclines Were Steam-Powered

In the 1920s, half a century into its lifespan, the Price Hill Incline converted to electrical power. No other incline made the switch. The incline steam engines were immense, and each incline burned through more than a ton of coal every day.

Some Of The Inclines Were Replaced By Steps

Falling into disrepair these days, two stairways maintain the original route of two of Cincinnati’s inclines. Although its top has been lopped off, the Fairview Steps ascending from McMicken Avenue to the Scenic Drive in Fairview Park cover most of the old Fairview Incline. The Main Street Steps, built by WPA labor during the Great Depression, preserve the route of the Mount Auburn Incline.

Inclines Had Stowaways

Among the most famous images of Cincinnati’s lost inclines is a 1905 large-format glass negative on file at the Library of Congress. An astute observer can see, on the uphill truck, a young boy sitting amid the framework.