Contra Costa County CA Archives History - Books .....Mount Diablo 1882 ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/ca/cafiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Joy Fisher sdgenweb@yahoo.com June 22, 2005, 6:26 pm Book Title: History Of Contra Costa County, California MOUNT DIABLO.—There was once a time when there were no human inhabitants in California, but there were two spirits, one evil, the other good; and they made war on each other, and the good spirit overcame the evil one. At that period, the entire face of the country was covered with water, except two islands, one of which was Mount Diablo, the other, Eagle Point, (on the north side). There was a coyote on the peak, the only living thing there. One day the coyote saw a feather floating on the water and as it reached the island, suddenly turned into an eagle, which spreading its broad pinions, flew upon the mountain. The coyote was much pleased with his new companion, and they dwelt in great harmony together, making occasional excursions to the other island, the coyote swimming while the eagle flew. After some time they counseled together and concluded to make Indians; they did so, and as the Indians increased the water decreased, until where the lake had been became dry land. At that time what is now known as the Golden Gate was a continuous chain of mountains, so that it was possible to go from one side to the other dry-shod. There were at this time only two outlets for the waters, one was the Russian River, the other San Juan at the Pajaro. Some time afterwards a great earthquake severed the chain of mountains and formed what is now known as the Golden Gate. Then the waters of the Great Ocean and the Bay were permitted to mingle. The rocky wall being rent asunder it was not long before the " pale faces " found their way in, and, as the water decreased at the coming of the Indians, so have the Indians decreased at the approach of the white man, until the war-whoop is heard no more, and the council-fire is no more lighted; for the Indians like shadows have passed silently away from the land of the coyote and eagle. In addition to the above legend, the following somewhat similar tradition is current among the Indians, and though we may not have the means of verifying it, is certainly full of interest. It is related that where the Bay of San Francisco now is, there formerly was a great lake, much longer, broader and deeper than the Bay. According to the Indian account this lake was more than three hundred miles in length, with no outlet except in the rainy season, when it would overflow its banks and a small stream would run to the ocean some thirty miles south of the present outlet. The ridge of hills along the coast was then unbroken and served as a dyke to prevent the waters of the lake from escaping to the ocean. Its level was many feet above that of the ocean, while its waters extended far up into the present valleys of the Sacramento and San Joaquin. On the shores, centuries ago, there dwelt populous tribes of Indians- indeed, if credence may be given to the tales of the aboriginals, the present population of California will equal that of those ancient days, when the "noble red-man" fished in its waters and hunted through the forests. The hills along the coast are formed of soft sandstone, and through this, the tradition relates, the water began to make a breach, which yearly grew wider, until it burst through and among the hills with tremendous power, leaving steep cliffs and precipices to mark its way—and what was once a lake several hundred miles in length, is now a bay not forty miles long. This may have been the cause for such a change, but it would seem far more reasonable to attribute it to some volcanic commotion which in those days might have been as prevalent here as they are now in Mexico and Central America. How far this tradition can be corroborated must be determined by those who have the means; but no one who has witnessed the steep bluffs around San Francisco, or has passed the singular entrance of the bay, called the Golden Gate, with its perpendicular walls, or has seen the no less singular bluffs of Raccoon Straits, can for a moment doubt but that they were formed by some powerful agency, either fire or water. Let us now for a little turn to consider the derivation of the name Mount Diablo, for by such a name is it known in the early English surveys. To the old Californian, it is recognized as the Sierra de las Golgones, they asserting that Mount Diablo is the name applied by them to another and smaller peak in the neighborhood, while De Mofras calls the mountain Sierra de los Bolbone. General Vallejo, than whom few better authorities on Californian lore exist, in his famous report to the Legislature dated April 16, 1850, says: "Mount Diablo, which occupies a conspicuous place in modern maps, is the centre of this county (as it was then and still is). It was intended so to call the county, but both branches of the Legislature, after warm debates on the subject (the representatives of the county opposing the said name), resolved upon the less profane one of 'Contra Costa.'" The following he then gives as the history of Monte del Diablo: "In 1806 a military expedition from San Francisco marched against the tribe 'Bolgones,' who were encamped at the foot of the mount; the Indians were prepared to receive the expedition, and a hot engagement ensued in the large hollow fronting the western side of the mount. As the victory was about to be decided in favor of the Indians, an unknown personage, decorated with the most extraordinary plumage, and making divers movements, suddenly appeared near the combatants. The Indians were victorious, and the incognito (Puy) departed towards the mount. The defeated soldiers, on ascertaining that the spirit went through the same ceremony daily and at all hours, named the mount 'Diablo,' in allusion to its mysterious inhabitant, that continued thus to make his appearance until the tribe was subdued by the troops in command of Lieutenant Gabriel Moraga, in a second campaign of the same year. In the aboriginal tongue 'Puy' signifies 'Evil Spirit;' in Spanish it means 'Diablo,' and doubtless it signifies 'Devil' in the Anglo-American language." It is said that there is an old Californian legend in this regard preserved in the archives of one of the missions, which runs thus:— Soon after the arrival of the Spanish Padres here, about the year 1769, to locate missions and civilize the aborigines, the Indians, among other tributes which they brought to the pious Fathers in token of their obedience, produced a quantity of gold nuggets, which they brought from the vicinity of a high mountain adjacent to what is now known as the Bay of San Francisco, and, which, according to their rude traditions, had once vomited forth both fire and smoke. The Padres foreseeing in this abundance of "the root of all evil" the future destroyer of their pastoral plans of settlement and the permanence of the Roman Catholic religion among these primitive tribes, determined to prevent the use of, or hunting for, the precious metal. They accordingly took all the gold which had been collected, and having secretly poisoned it, placed it in a tub of water, and told the Indians to make their dogs drink it. The simple natives, accustomed to yield implicit obedience, did as they were ordered, and the dogs that drank thereof died. The Padres then pointed out this as an instance of the ruin and destruction which would visit them and their country if they meddled any more with so dangerous an agent, and from that time the Indians carefully avoided the place whence the treasure was obtained, and, which, as the gold was held to be of a diabolical origin, and especially sent to carry out the plans of his Satanic Majesty, they ever after named it Monte Diablo, or Devil's Mountain. The mountain is also said to take its name from a marvelous phenomenon witnessed amongst its wild and precipitous gorges, at a time when, in the language of an old trapper, "Injins war plenty, and white women war not." It is related that once, in an expedition against the horse-thief tribes who inhabited the valley of the San Joaquin as far down as the base of the mountain, the native Californians came up with a party of the freebooters, laden with the spoils of a hunt, and immediately gave chase, driving them up the steep defiles which form the ascent of the mountain on one side. Elated with the prospect of securing and meting out punishment to the robbers, they were pressing hard after them, when lo! from a cavernous opening in their path there issued forth such fierce flames, accompanied by so terrible a roaring, that thinking themselves within a riata's throw of the principal entrance to his Infernal Majesty's summer palace, the astonished rancheros, with many a "carajoes!" and "carambas!" and like profane ejaculations, forgot their hostile errand, and turning tail scampered down the mountain faster than they had gone up. Reciting the adventure to their fellow-rancheros on their return, it was unanimously agreed that the devil and his chief steward had fixed their abode in the mountain, and in compliment to the great original dealer in hoof and horns, they gave the present name of Mount Diablo to the scene of their late terrific exploit and discomfiture. As for the Indians, who as they declared, all mysteriously disappeared as the flames rose in view, of course the Dons afterwards insisted that they were the favored children of the devil! So much for these legends of Diablo. There are other stories connected with the mountain, bordering on the marvelous, or rather the diabolical, one of which is that a herdsman who had lost his way among the canons, discovered what he supposed by the fading light of day to be a spring of clear water in a hollow rock, and that stooping down to appease his thirst, he was rather surprised at the marvelous celerity with which the supposed water slid down his throat and through his stomach, like drops of real water off the back of a duck. It was afterwards supposed that he drank from a pocket of liquid quicksilver, a supposition which subjected the old mountain to a pretty rigid investigation in 1848, by cinnabar hunters. Whether the tradition of the burning mountain had anything to do, also, with the explorations which were made about the same period (just before the general discovery of gold) for coal mines, we are not advised, nor whether the coal bed since discovered suggests an explanation, or furnishes an hypothesis by which to account for the burning pit which opened before the astonished gaze of the Indian scouting party, we leave it for others to determine, as we do also which of the above legends offers the most plausible reason for the name Mount Diablo. This cognomen has, however, had its enemies. In the session 1865-66 of the California Legislature a petition was introduced by a Mr. Dodge asking for a change in the name of Mount Diablo. The Bulletin, a San Francisco newspaper, thus enters into a little badinage on the subject: "It may possibly be a trick of the devil himself to get another alias, or, perchance the prayer comes from a bevy of 'out-cropping poets,' living at the base of the mountain, who want the name changed to Parnassus. The probability is, however, that the petition originated with some mining company who want to get the name changed to 'Coal Hill,' or some other ridiculous title, in order to advertise their bituminous deposits. In either case, it is an absurd proposition, and besides it can't be done. The Legislature is not equal to the task. They may succeed in changing the name of Smith to Jones, or Brown to Johnson; but when they undertake to give a new title to one of California's grandest old mountains, they reckon without their host. The popular voice won't accept the change. Though the Legislature may say 'Coal Hill,' the people will continue to say 'Mount Diablo,' and Diablo it will remain. It is safe to bet that when that towering lump of earth ceases to be called Mount Diablo there will be no mountain there, if, indeed, there be any California. 'While stands the Coliseum, Rome shall stand; When falls the Coliseum, Borne shall fall: And when Rome falls, the World." The State Geologist in his report published in 1866, says of this grand old mountain: "To the Survey it has served as a sort of key for unlocking the stratigraphical difficulties of the whole line of upheavals from Los Angeles to Clear Lake, and it was here that the Cretaceous formation in the State was first clearly recognized. "Monte Diablo itself is one of the most conspicuous and best-known landmarks in California. But few persons in the State can have failed to recognize it from some point either of the Coast Ranges or of the Sierra Nevada. It is not its great elevation which has given it its pre-eminence among the innumerable peaks of the Coast Ranges; it is just the height of Mount Bache, near New Almaden, a point hardly known by name to those who have not made a special study of the geography of California, and it is overtopped by Mount Hamilton, San Carlos, and some nameless peaks to which no public attention has ever been attracted. The reason why Mount Diablo has so marked a pre-eminence among the peaks of the Coast Ranges is, that it is, comparatively speaking, quite isolated, especially on the northwest, north and northeast, the directions from which it is most likely to be seen. To the traveler passing up Suisun Bay, or the Sacramento or San Joaquin rivers, it presents itself in all its symmetry and grandeur, rising directly from the level of the sea, and easily recognizable from a great distance by its double summit and regular conical outline, resembling that of a volcano, which it was generally supposed to be by the early settlers. "If the mountain is made such a conspicuous landmark by its isolated position, it becomes itself, in turn, a point from which a vast area of the State may be observed and studied. Rising as it does among the Coast Ranges, these may be traced from its summit, from Mount Hamilton on the south to unnamed peaks in the vicinity of Clear Lake on the north, and from the plains of the Sacramento and the San Joaquin to the Pacific, east and west. The great interior valley of California lies spread out like a map, extending as far as the eye can reach. To the east the view seems illimitable, and it is believed that there are few, if any, points on the earth's surface from which so extensive an area may be seen as from Mount Diablo. This is due to the peculiar form of the Great Valley of California and the gradual rise of the Sierra, which brings higher and higher points to view as the distance becomes greater. The eye can range over an extent of four hundred miles from north to south, and back to the east, or towards the summit of the Sierra, as far as the crest of this range, the farthest northern point visible being Lassen's Buttes and the most extreme southernmost point near Owen's Lake, probably, thus affording a range over this snow-crested line of mountains of over three hundred miles in length. The whole area thus spread out can hardly be less than forty thousand square miles, not much less than that of the whole State of New York." By an easy grade the way to the summit wends through the romantic Pine Canon, skirted by precipitous hills, and occasionally buttressed by craggy pinnacles of rock whose shapes often assume the most fantastic forms. As the road ascends the flank of the mountain, each new curve opens up a fresh scene of beauty surpassing the one which preceded it, and the eye gradually takes in the added splendors of a panorama extending north, south, east and west, to the farthest horizon's verge. Some two miles from the summit we reach the building that formerly was used as an hotel, and near where in days of yore the toll-house stood. This point is the junction of the road from Danville, and from thence to the apex of Diablo there is but one route. As we ascend the mountain the pulse is quickened with each upward step, for each step adds a new glory to the scene, and when we reach and stand upon the summit, inhaling air, "Pure as the icicle that hangs on Dian's Temple," with our vision sweeping over the vast extent of country, we feel our hearts expand, while our lips, in the language of poesy, exclaim: "It is a land of beauty and grandeur, Where looks the cottage out on a domain The palace cannot boast, of—seas and lakes, And hills and forests, golden grain and waves 'Midst mountains all of light, that mock the sun, Returning him his flaming beams, more thick And radiant than he sends them: Torrents here are bounding floods, And when the tempest comes, It roams in all the terrors of its glory. And then the valleys—ah! they are The homes for hearts—the cottages—the vineyards—orchards— The pastures, studded with the herd and fold! A free—a happy, grand and glorious country!" The view from the summit is magnificent — beyond all description. Standing there on a clear day, and overlooking the craggy precipices and deep ravines, which impart an air of wild grandeur to the immediate vicinity, around the base of the mountain you behold, in all the elegance of their graceful outline and the beauty of their light and shadow, the admirably rounded foothills, gradually diminishing in prominence until they merge with the delightful valleys through whose groves of wide-spreading oaks and sycamores the eye involuntarily traces out the meandering courses of the sparkling waters, that, after having dashed down their rugged mountain channels, appear to delight to linger amid the scenes of dreamy beauty with which they are surrounded. Looking north you see the rich populous valleys of Napa, Sonoma, Petaluma and Russian River, and in the distance the succession of mountain ranges in Mendocino. On the east you see the Sacramento and San Joaquin plains, with their great rivers coursing through them, and the snow-enveloped Sierra Nevada; and towering high above all, at the extreme verge of the horizon, you can discern Lassen's Buttes, which, in a straight line, is distant from Mount Diablo, two hundred miles. On the south the noble San Francisco Bay, the Coast Range and Santa Clara valley form a picture of rare loveliness. On turning to the west San Pablo Bay with its numerous inlets, the city of San Francisco, the streets of which are plainly visible, Goat Island, Alcatraz, the Golden Gate, and the horizon-bounded ocean, complete a vast panorama of picturesque beauty and grandeur, which, as seen on a clear day, supasses all effort of portrayal. Whoever has watched the coming of daylight, and seen the sun rise in ordinarily clear weather from the summit of Mount Diablo has witnessed one of the grandest spectacles of creation. Will the reader for a moment think of standing on a point commanding a twelve hundred mile sweep of horizon, and after wondering at the huge changing shapes and shadows of the mountain piles lying below in the pale light of the moon, setting in the west, watching the growing white light of day lifting in the east and tinting the sky above the Sierra range with pale soft rainbow hues, then, preluded by a momentary intense white shimmer, seeing a burst of vivid maroon-colored flame break above the mountain crests two hundred miles away, and the sun spring up, a glowing globe of red fires, which flash with intensity, the same colors, as the rays touch the waters, spreading through the tule marshes in the track of the sun across the great valley. Turning then to the west, the shadow of the mountain from which the spectacle is seen lies softly, but plainly, defined across the western valleys and hills, with its conical shadow-peak high up in the sky above the crests of the Coast range. But there is a much grander sight than even this. The reader may be surprised when he is informed that a dense fog, so unacceptable to the denizens of the lower regions, affords this grander sight. We have seen several such in different parts of the world, and think them the most impressive and grandest of natures wonders, throwing the sun's rising or setting completely into insignificance. Far as the eye can reach, a slowly moving mass of gigantic translucent vapors, traveling in stately grandeur, lies spread out hundreds of feet below, utterly obscuring hill and valley, as much so as though they had been what they much resembled, the stupendous billows raised by a mighty storm, and, then, as the power of the sun's rays dispersed their force, might be seen peeping through the ocean of foam first one, and then another hill-top, and the vapors, following the various inequalities of the land, might be seen tumbling over the hill-sides grand as Niagara's mighty cataract. None who have once seen this sight are likely ever to forget it. As the mists clear away the eye first turns its expectant gaze towards the blue waves of the Peaceful Sea, and there it is; and, if the season be spring, over the greenest of valleys brilliant with myriads of wild flowers; over the Bay, and the Bay City; over the portals of the Golden Gate, un-till one's eyes drink in the sight of the Pacific as far as the Farralones de las Grayles, twenty miles beyond where its waves thunder upon this rocky coast. We can appreciate now the feelings which made Balboa speechless, when, from the pinnacle up to which he had climbed, he first looked upon this grand old ocean. In our own vicinity, we have to the south McGreer's Canon, Moraga, Tassajara, Green, Sycamore, and San Ramon valleys. To the north one glances over Diablo valley, Martinez, the Straits of Carqui-nez, Benicia, Vallejo, Mare Island to the horizon along which extends, as far as the eye can reach, the snow-white peaks of the Sierra Nevada. This fascinates the eye as much as the west view of the Pacific. To the east one overlooks the smaller of the two peaks of Diablo, to the San Joaquin plains and Stockton. Mount Diablo bears unmistakeable evidence of having once been a volcano of some force. A portion of the crater is still well marked and can be traced without difficulty. The igneous rocks lie along its canons from base to summit. The primitive slate and granite, with intervening ledges of quartz, crop out everywhere. Much of the range north and south of it partakes of the same character and must have been elevated with it. Limestone is found in many places on the eastern slope—an indication to the mineralogist that silver will be found in greater or less quantities among its mineral deposits. The height is three thousand eight hundred and seventy-six feet. The New York Times is responsible for the following amusing anecdote about Mount Diablo, with which we purpose closing this portion of our subject: "In early California settlement days, it was deemed 'the cheese' for the adventurous Yankees to pay great deference to the Roman Catholic predilections of the aboriginal and abo-Mexican population. One sharp but illiterate chap, from somewhere near sunrise, happened to fix his eyes upon certain rich lands in the neighborhood of Mount Diablo; and on a tempting occasion, when some saint's festival called together on that mountain all the local dignitaries of the church, our Yankee made his 'ten-strike.' After volubly impressing upon all who would hear him his intense respect and veneration for the only true church, and his love for her ministers, (those who could convey the coveted lands, of course, being meant), he culminated in a brilliant idea. He had somehow learned that the Spanish Catholics were partial to the prefix 'San.' and he knew that it meant 'Saint.' So, winding up a speech intended to be eulogistic of all the saints in the calendar, he said: 'Now, venerable Fathers and laymen, allow me to propose that, on this memorable occasion, we add one more to the brilliant galaxy of sacred names in this beautiful land—one more saint to the glorious list that honors the Golden State; I propose, sirs, that the mountain on which we are now standing be hereafter and forever known as San Diablo.' It is recorded that the worthy Fathers were for a moment in doubt whether to be indignant or pass 'Saint Devil' off as a joke, and the question was never fully settled; but the ambitious sponsor, somehow or other, never got the land, and would always insist that the priests were a stupid lot of humbugs." Additional Comments: Extracted from: HISTORY OF CONTRA COSTA COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, INCLUDING ITS GEOGRAPHY, GEOLOGY, TOPOGRAPHY, CLIMATOGRAPHY AND DESCRIPTION; TOGETHER WITH A RECORD OF THE MEXICAN GRANTS; THE BEAR FLAG WAR; THE MOUNT DIABLO COAL FIELDS; THE EARLY HISTORY AND SETTLEMENT, COMPILED FROM THE MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES; THE NAMES OF ORIGINAL SPANISH AND MEXICAN PIONEERS; FULL LEGISLATIVE HISTORY OF THE COUNTY; SEPARATE HISTORY OF EACH TOWNSHIP, SHOWING THE ADVANCE IN POPULATION AND AGRICULTURE; ALSO, Incidents of Pioneer Life; and Biographical Sketches OF EARLY AND PROMINENT SETTLERS AND REPRESENTATIVE MEN; AMD OF ITS TOWNS, VILLAGES, CHURCHES, SECRET SOCIETIES, ETC. ILLUSTRATED. SAN FRANCISCO: W. A. SLOCTUM & CO., PUBLISHERS 1882. File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/ca/contracosta/history/1882/historyo/mountdia4gms.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.genrecords.org/cafiles/ File size: 25.6 Kb