The Pied Piper Hamelin

In the town of Hamelin, in the year 1284, there was a giant rat infestation, and the city's mayor desperately sought help to get rid of them. The town had already tried so many ways to drive the rats away for good, to no avail, when a tall, handsome stranger in a multicolored coat appeared at the west gate and entered the town. This stranger headed straight to the Mayor’s house to talk with him.

When the Mayor allowed him in his house, the stranger told the Mayor he could get rid of the rats in the town for a price. The Mayor asked him what his fee would be, and the stranger told him about 50 of the town’s children. The Mayor agreed to the terms, and the stranger left the house.

Once the stranger was outside, he pulled a pipe from his coat pocket and began to play. He played a tune as he marched up and down each street in the town of Hamelin. He marched and played until every rat in the city followed behind him. Then he marched and played the rats right out of the town into the Weser River, where every rat soon drowned and died. Then he turned back to go to the Mayor’s house.

Meanwhile, the Mayor had sent a remarkable tax man around to collect guilders from the townspeople, telling them they needed to raise 1000 guilders (equivalent to approximately a million dollars today) to pay the Pied Piper for caring for the rat problem.

When the Piper arrived at the Mayor’s house, the Mayor first offered the Piper 50 guilders. The Piper refused. So the Mayor offered the Piper 100 guilders. Again, the Piper refused. Then the Mayor offered 500 guilders. Yet again, the Piper refused—the same when the Mayor offered the Piper the full 1000 guilders that the tax man raised. The Piper said he only wanted what they had agreed upon.

The Mayor refused. He knew many of the town’s people would be upset if they knew he had agreed to trade their children for the services of the lowly rat man. He didn't want that to get out and ruin his career.

The Piper demanded again. The Mayor refused again. So the Piper stood up as straight as his tall thin frame would allow him and told the Mayor that he would rue the day he crossed the Piper.

The Mayor had the Sheriff and his Deputy run the Piper out of the town, and they told him never to return. The Piper just laughed. Then he said he would be back for what was due him.

Late that night, after everyone in the town had gone to bed and fallen asleep, the Pied Piper reentered the city. Pulling his pipe out, he began to play a different tune than the one he played to entice the rats and march. Down every street. Up every street. He was playing the song on his pipe.

At each house he passed, along every street, a child or two would come out and follow behind him, dancing along. One, two, three, down this street. Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, up that street. Twenty, twenty-two, twenty-three from that house. Forty, forty-five, and fifty from those houses. On and on and on, a hundred, a hundred twenty-five, and a hundred fifty. Every child in the town was dancing and following behind the Pied Piper.

Parents all over town were waking up to the sound of the haunting notes of the pipe. Looking out their windows, they could see the Piper leading the children from the village. Throwing on robes or clothes, they all set out to chase down the Piper and rescue their children. Reaching the city gates, they couldn’t believe their eyes. The Pied Piper and the children, each and everyone, wavered and disappeared as if they were all mirages.