The town of Hamelin, which rested along the banks of the Weser River, was in trouble. For months, its citizens had been plagued by rats. In every home, every market, every grain store, the rats devoured any and all food they could find, bringing disease and terror along with them. The citizens implored their mayor to take some action and deal with the infestation. The mayor had already sought several inexpensive solutions to the town’s problem. He had ordered the release of dozens of cats into the streets, but they had become a nuisance in their own right eating the local chickens and other easier to catch prey. The mayor had then ordered the placing of traps and poisons, but the town’s children had hurt themselves or gotten sick from playing with the traps or eating the poison. The mayor had then placed a bounty for anyone who would bring in captured or dead rats, but the town’s more conniving citizens had started hoarding or even breeding rats in their own homes so as to turn them into a profit, thus only making the rat population grow even more. At their wits end and with the harvest festival soon approaching, a meeting was called in the town hall to discuss the issue and try to come to a solution.
It was in the midst of this meeting that a strange man arrived in town. The stranger presented himself to the townspeople at the meeting. He was dressed in the attire of a traveling street performer, wearing pied clothing with stripes of red and green on his hat, shirt, and pants. Addressing the assembly, he confirmed that he had once been a musician but now used his musical skills for a very different profession, that of a rat catcher. He took out from the bag on his shoulder a wooden pipe and placed it to his lips. The music he played was very strange, a tune the likes of which none of the townspeople had ever heard before. As he played, rats started to crawl out from cracks in the walls and through the open windows. Seeming to ignore everything around them except for the piper and his song, the rats scurried to the center of the hall around the piper’s feet. As the townspeople watched in amazement, the piper placed his bag on the floor and, as if in a trance, the rats filed one by one into it. When a dozen rats were in the bag, the piper abruptly stopped playing and picked up the bag, closing it tightly to trap the rats inside. The instant the music ceased, the spell upon the rats was apparently broken and they began to squirm violently within the bag but were unable to escape.
Astounded and thoroughly impressed, the townspeople began to applaud the piper and a cry went up calling on the mayor to hire the man at once. The mayor, distrustful and perhaps a bit jealous of the piper for winning the admiration of his citizens, reluctantly asked what price this stranger asked for his services in ridding the town of all its rats. The piper replied that for such a mighty task, his prize would be nothing less than his own weight in gold. The mayor scoffed at this price, and though he began to protest, the townspeople shouted him down and insisted that he agree to the piper’s terms. Feeling that his hands were tied, the mayor only smirked and said, “You will be given what you are owed”.
The next morning, the piper stood in the center of town with all the citizens gathered around him to watch. Once again, he placed his pipe to his lips and started to play. The song he played was recognizable as the one he’d played before, but this time he played louder and faster, his notes bouncing off the walls of the buildings and down every street and alley. Like a flood of fur, rats began scampering out of every nook and cranny. Seeing their approach the piper began to march out from the center of town. Down every street he marched and played, and the rats followed, seeming almost to sway and dance under his control. After traveling along every street in town he turned toward the river, his hairy army in tow. When he reached the bank of the river, he stopped his march and turned towards his rodent followers. Suddenly, the tune he played changed, becoming even more fervent and strange. The rats, seemingly spurred on, continued marching to the tune, neither slowing nor stopping as they reached the water’s edge. One by one, the rats jumped into the river and were immediately carried away by the strong current. By midday, every rat in Hamelin had jumped to a watery grave, never to be seen again.
His work complete, the piper bowed to the townspeople who cheered on their new hero. The people followed the piper to the home of the mayor. The mayor stood in his front door with a scowl on his face. The piper immediately requested he be paid what was agreed. To which the mayor replied, “I agreed you would be given what you are owed. And I owe you nothing. You see, no rat ever entered my home. You did no great service to me. It is the people of this town who owe you. They are the ones who promised you gold. The gold they have earned with their blood, sweat, and tears, laboring in their fields and shops, while you prance around traveling wherever you wish playing music for your living. To steal the coin from their purses, the food from the mouths of their children, you’re no better than a rat yourself! We have suffered enough at the hands of rats. Leave our town and count yourself lucky we do not throw you into the river!”
Disbelief and fury took over the piper’s face. He turned to the townspeople, demanding they pay him what he was owed. What yesterday they had been all too eager to promise him. But not one of the citizens of Hamelin was willing to meet his eyes. Thinking of the mayor’s words, their children, and their upcoming harvest festival, none were willing to part with a single coin to pay the piper. Enraged, the piper stormed off, cursing the people of Hamelin under his breath as he left the town and its greedy, unfaithful citizens behind.
Weeks passed, and the day of the Hamelin harvest festival arrived. All the town’s citizens were in attendance, having all but forgotten the piper or the rats that he had removed to make the festival possible. There was food, drink, and dancing late into the night. The next morning was Sunday, and in observance of the Day of Saint John and Paul, only adults were allowed to attend the morning service. Gathered all together within the church, no one was able to hear the strange music that began playing in the streets.
Hours later, upon returning home, all the town’s adults were horrified. Their children could not be found, not at home or anywhere else. Searching in every direction and every possible hiding place, only two children could be found out of the hundreds who had been there hours earlier. One a little girl, who had been stricken deaf years before after an illness, and one little boy, who had been born unable to walk. It was through them that the parents of the town’s children learned what had happened.
The piper had returned to Hamelin. But this time, he played a very different tune. Now dressed all in black, the song he played while once again marching through the streets was haunting and disjointed, yet somehow even more enthralling than before. All the town’s children had looked outside to discover the source of the music. Just like the rats had before them the children seemed to fall under the piper’s spell and had left their homes to follow him in the streets, swaying and dancing as they went. Only the deaf girl who saw all but could not hear the piper’s song, and the chair-bound boy who saw and heard but could not leave his home to follow, were left behind. After visiting every home, the piper had turned towards the outskirts of town and marched away with all the children of Hamelin in tow. Neither the children, nor the piper, were ever to be seen or heard from again.