The Noise of Spring: The Ancient Rite of "Ciocà Mars"

When the silence of winter was shattered by the cacophony of a rude awakening.

Location: Valtenesi & Lake Garda Hinterland | Era: From 200 BC to the 1940s | Reading Time: 3 Minutes

The Lead: For centuries, the end of winter on Lake Garda was not marked by gentle breezes, but by a deliberate and organized chaos. In a tradition now largely confined to memory, the last days of February saw village silence broken by the raucous sounds of “Ciocà Mars”—the beating of March. It was a moment of release, coarse humor, and ancient signaling that the cold season was finally dead.

🗝️ Key Facts

Visitability: Intangible Heritage (Historical custom, no longer practiced in this form).
Where: Valtenesi and rural villages of Lake Garda.
Era: Ancient origins (Cenomani Gauls) through the mid-20th Century.

The Mocking Serenades

At the very end of February, groups of young men would take to the streets to “beat March” (ciocà Mars) and “sow” (sementà) discord among the local women. This was no romantic serenade. Armed with a makeshift orchestra of broken pots, tin cans, old lids, and battered drums beaten with sticks, they marched through the village creating a deafening racket.

The goal was to sing loud, mocking verses directed at marriageable girls, young wives, and sometimes the husbands whose absence sparked local gossip. Behind the tightly closed shutters, women listened with a mix of curiosity and anxiety. They peered through the cracks, hoping the rude rhymes were intended for a neighbor rather than themselves.

The verses were often cruel. They stigmatized women destined for spinsterhood, exposed alleged affairs, or mocked personal habits and local characters. It was a time when grudges were aired and rejected suitors sought a noisy, public revenge.

A Wartime Memory

The tradition persisted even during the darkest times. There is a vivid memory from 1944, a year of fear and uncertainty. During a brief respite from the air raids of “Pippo”—the nickname given to the lone Allied planes that patrolled the night skies dropping bombs—the cacophony of the tin cans started up again.

In that tense atmosphere, the mockery continued unabated. One unfortunate girl, lacking in beauty, was cruelly compared in verse to the beard of her own goats. The harmony of the beaten cans would reach a crescendo, leaving anger and embarrassment behind the shutters as the fanfare moved on to the next house, maintaining a “convenient” distance to avoid immediate retaliation.

The Mystery of “Trato-Marzo”

In some localities, this custom was known as “Trato-marso.” The etymology remains a subject of debate. Does it mean a “Contract of March”? An “Invitation to March”? or perhaps a “Pulling” (trato as in entrata or entry) of the new month?

Regardless of the name, the intent was clear: it was a variation of the Kalends of March celebrations, marking the arrival of spring warmth and the start of the new agricultural year. It fit into a calendar governed by the rhythm of the seasons, oscillating between the “great cold” of San Vincenzo (January 22) and the “great heat” of San Lorenzo (August 10).

Ancient Roots: The Cenomani and the Bonfires

While the mocking songs were a later evolution, the core of the tradition—celebrating the end of winter—dates back to the Cenomani Gauls who settled in the Valtenesi area around 200 BC.

Unlike the Roman celebrations of Venus on the Kalends of March, which were generally more orderly, the Gallic tradition was wilder. They imported the custom of lighting great bonfires on the hilltops. These fires served as a communication network, signaling from peak to peak across the landscape. Around these flames, the ancients would gather for rude bacchanals, shouting and singing to welcome the spring—a primal ancestor to the noise and chaos that would characterize the “Ciocà Mars” centuries later.