The mayor and Town Councillors were greatly perplexed what to do, when there entered a strange-looking piper, and offered to charm away all the rats for a thousand guilders. The council joyfully agreed to this, and at once:—
Into the street the Piper swept,
Smiling first a little smile,
As if he knew what magic slept
In his quiet pipe the while:
Then, like a musical adept,
To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,
And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled
Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled;
And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
You heard as if an army muttered;
And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,
Families by tens and dozens,
Brothers, sisters, husbands wives—
Followed the Piper for their lives.
From street to street he piped advancing,
Until they came to river Weser
Wherein all plunged and perished
—Save one.
You should have heard the Hamelin people
Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.
"Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles!
Poke out the nests and block up the holes!
Consult with carpenters and builders,
And leave in our town not even a trace
Of the rats!"—when suddenly up the face
Of the Piper perked in the market-place,
With a "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!"
The mayor and Councillors abused the Piper, refused to pay him the thousand guilders, and offered him fifty and a drink, he refused to take less than they had offered, and said:
"Folks who put me in a passion
May find me pipe to another fashion,"
"How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I'll brook
Being worse treated than a crook?
Insulted by a lazy ribald
With idle pipe and vesture piebald?
You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,
Blow your pipe there till you burst!"
Once more he stept into the street:
And to his lips again
Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;
And ere he blew three notes (such sweet
Soft notes as yet musicians cunning
Never gave the enraptured air),
There was a rustling, that seemed like a bustling
Of merry crowds pustling, at pitching and hustling,
Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering,
And like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering,
Out came the children running,
All the little boys and girls,
With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,
Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after
The wonderful music with shouting laughter.
The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
As if they were carved into blocks of wood,
Unable to move a step, or cry
To the children merrily skipping by—
And could only follow with the eye
That joyous crowd at the Piper's back.
But how the Mayor was on the rack,
And the wretched Council's bosoms beat,
As the Piper turned from the High street
To where the Weser rolled its waters
Right in the way of their sons and daughters!
However he turned from South to West,
And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,
And after him the children pressed;
Great was the joy in every breast.
"He never can cross that mighty top!
He's forced to let the piping drop,
And we shall see out children stop!"
When lo! as they reached the mountain's side,
A wondrous portal opened wide,
As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed
And the Piper advanced and the children followed.
And when all were in to the very last,
The door in the mountain-side shut fast,
Did I say all? No! one was lame,
And could not dance the whole of the way!
And in after years, if you would blame
His sadness, he was used to say—
"It's dull in our town since my playmates left;
I can't forget that I'm bereft
Of all they pleasant sights they see,
Which the Piper also promised me;
For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,
Joining the town and just at hand,
Where waters gushed and fruit trees grew,
And flowers put forth a fairer hue.

[Previous] - [Index] - [Next]

Page 181—Rat Land

And everything was strange and new;
The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,
And their dogs outran our fellow deer,
And honey-bees had lost their stings;
And horses were born with eagles' wings,
And just as I became assured
My lame foot would be speedily cured,
The music stopped, and I stood still,
And found myself outside the Hill,
Left alone against my will,
To go now limping as before,
And never hear of that country more!"
Alas, alas for Hamelin!
There came into many a burgher's pate
A text which says, that Heaven's Gate
Opens to the Rich at as easy rate
As the needle's eye takes a camel in!
The mayor sent East, West, North and South,
To offer the Piper by word of mouth,
Wherever it was men's lot to find him,
Silver and gold to his heart's content,
If he'd only return the way he went,
And bring the children all behind him.
But at length they saw 'twas a lost endeavour,
For Piper and dancers were gone for ever.
Browning
The Wicked Bishop Hatto
The summer and autumn had been so wet
That in winter the corn was growing yet;
'Twas a piteous sight to see all around
The grain lie rotting on the ground.
Every day the starving poor
Crowded around Bishop Hatto's door,
For all the neighbourhood could tell
His granaries were furnished well.
At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day
To quiet the poor without delay:
He bade them to his great Barn repair
And they should have food for the winter there.
Rejoiced such tidings good to hear,
The poor folk flocked from far and near;
So the great Barn was full as it could hold
Of women and children, and young and old.
Then when he saw it could hold no more,
Bishop Hatto he made fast the door;
And while for mercy with shrieks they call,
He set fire to the Barn and burnt them all,
"A rare and excellent bonfire!" quoth he,
"And the country is greatly obliged to me,
For ridding it in these times forlorn
Of Rats that only consume the corn."
So then to his palace returned he,
And he sat down to supper merrily,
And he slept that night like an innocent man;—
But Bishop Hatto never slept again.
In the morning as he entered the hall,
Where his picture hung against the wall,
A sweat like death all over him came,
For the Rats had eaten it out of the frame.
As he looked, there came a man from his farm,
He had a countenance white with alarm;—
"I opened your granaries this morn,
And the Rats had eaten all the corn."
Another came running presently,
And he was pale as pale could be;—
"Fly! my Lord Bishop, without delay,
Ten thousand rats are coming this way."
"I'll go to my tower on the Rhine," quoth he,
"'Tis the safest place in Germany;
The walls are high and the shores are steep,
And the stream is long and the water deep."
Bishop Hatto fearfully hastened away,
And he crossed the Rhine without delay,
And reached his tower, and barred with care
All the windows, doors, and loopholes there.
He laid him down, and closed his eyes.
But soon a scream made him arise:
He started, and saw two eyes of flame
On his pillow, from whence the screaming came.
He listened, and looked—it was only the cat;
But the Bishop grew more fearful for that,
For she sat screaming, mad with fear,
At the army of rats that were drawing near.
For they have swum over the river so deep,
And they have climed the shores so steep,
And up the tower their way is bent,
To do the work for which they were sent.
They are not to be told by the dozen or score—
By the thousands they come, and by myriads, and more;
Such numbers have never been heard of before,
Such a judgement had never been witnessed of yore.
Down on his knees the Bishop fell,
And faster and faster his beads did tell,
As louder and louder, drawing near,
The gnawing by their teeth he could hear.
And in at the windows, and in at the door,
And through the walls helter-skelter they pour,
And down from the ceiling, and up from the floor,
From the right and the left, from behind and before,
From within and without, from above and below;
And all at once to the Bishop they go.
They have whetted their teeth against the stones,
And now they pick the Bishop's bones;
They gnawed the flesh from every limb,
For they were sent to do judgement on him.
R. Southey
What became of them!
He was a rat, and she was a rat,
And down in one hole they did dwell,
And both were as black as a witch's cat,
And they loved one another well.
He had a tail, and she had a tail,
Both long and curling and fine,
And each said, "Yours is the finest tail
In the world, excepting mine."
He smelt the cheese, and she smelt the cheese,
And they both pronounced it good;
And both remarked it would greatly add
To the charms of their daily food.
So he ventured out, and she ventured out,
And I saw them go with pain;
But what befel them I never can tell,
For they never came back again.