There are those who say that in the woods on the left bank of the Piave River lives an elf with a benevolent spirit but gruff and vengeful.
Il Mazariol (or Mazzariol) seems to be a creature dressed in a red hood with a large red hat and a thick beard covered his wrinkled and spiteful face.
There are also those who describe him as a stout old man who hid disobedient children under his cloak.
It is said that whoever steps in the footsteps of Mazariol is driven by a spell to follow his footsteps until he meets him, and then he loses his memory thanks to a drink made of black goat’s milk that the elf gives to the unfortunate person.
One of these curses was a sprite.
One of these unfortunates seems to be the “girl of Primiero”. According to a legend, the girl found herself in front of the goblin after setting foot on one of his footprints. The elf breathed in her face and the girl lost her memory and forgot everything about her past life. In the following years the girl remained in the service of Mazariol, who taught her how to make butter, cheese and toast. One day a hunter recognized her and brought her back to the village. The girl couldn’t remember anything and after several attempts to get her memory back, only the milk of a little white goat, given to her by an old woman, worked. So happy to be back home, the girl taught the people of the village how to make butter, cheese and toast.
Whoever meets the Mazariol can be greeted with the phrase “Hello, I am the Mazariol who defeated Attila, the scourge of God“.
In fact, it is said that in the year 452, when Attila’s Huns were about to attack the area, the Mazariol who is very attached to his territory, turned their camp upside down.
He blew on the fires to set the skins on fire, overturned the pots full of food, pulled the hair and put mistletoe on the soldiers’ beards, and tied the tails and manes of their horses.
The next morning the Huns were ready to attack, although tired and disheartened by the troubled night.
The next morning the Huns were ready to attack, although tired and disheartened by the troubled night.
As they mounted their horses, they realized that this was yet another joke and, not knowing that one should never cut what the Mazariol unites, they cut the hair and the tied tails and their horses lost their sense of direction and began to zig-zag dazed and without will.
Dismayed and frightened, the Huns ran away leaving Attila alone and humiliated.
The Mazariol has always been loved since that event but if you visit the area, be very careful.
An old local saying goes: “No cascar entro te le peche del mazarol!” …you may lose your memory and never come back.
Photo by sanmartino.com
