The Pied Piper of Hamelin
Hamelin Town is in Brunswick, near the famous city of Hanover. The river Weser is deep and wide, and its banks are washed by the water on the southern side. It is a pleasant place, and no one ever thought it could be better. Almost five hundred years ago, the townspeople suffered terribly from vermin. The rats fought with dogs, killed cats, bit babies in cradles, ate cheese from vats, licked soup from cooks’ ladles, broke open salted sprat kegs, made nests in men’s Sunday hats, and spoiled women’s conversations by drowning them with shrieking and squeaking in fifty different notes.
At last the people gathered at the Town Hall. “It is clear,” they cried, “our mayor is a fool; and as for our corporation—shocking—to think we buy gowns lined with ermine for fools that cannot or will not decide what it takes to rid us of our vermin!” The mayor and the corporation quaked with great distress.
An hour later, the mayor broke his silence. “For a guilder I would sell my ermine gown,” he said. “I wish I were a mile away! It is easy to give one’s brain a rack. I am sure my poor head aches again. I have scratched it so, and all in vain. Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!” Just then a gentle tap on the chamber door made him exclaim, “Bless us, what is that?” He looked little but wondered. Only a scraping of shoes on the mat, something like the sound of a rat, made his heart pound.
“Come in,” the mayor cried, looking larger. The strangest figure entered. He wore a long coat from heel to head, half yellow and half red, and he was tall and thin. He had sharp blue eyes like pins, light loose hair, and a swarthy complexion. No beard nor tuft of hair on his cheek, yet his lips smiled. He was a mysterious man and nobody could fully know him.
He advanced to the council table. “Please, your honors, I am able by a secret charm to draw all creatures living beneath the sun—those that creep, swim, fly, or run—after me as you have never seen. I chiefly use my charm on creatures that harm people: the mole, the toad, the newt, and the viper. They call me the Pied Piper.” They noted a scarf of red and yellow stripes around his neck, matching his coat. At the end of the scarf hung a pipe, and his fingers were always restless, as if eager to play it.
He said he had freed the Cham of gnats in Tartary last June and had helped the Nizam in Asia rid a monstrous brood of vampire bats. “If I can rid your town of rats, will you give me a thousand guilders? Fifty thousand?” The astonished mayor and corporation were shocked.
The piper stepped into the street, smiling a little, as if he knew what magic slept in his quiet pipe. He blew the pipe, his lips wrinkled, his eyes green and blue. The first three notes sounded like an army muttering; the muttering grew to a grumbling, then a mighty rumbling. Out of the houses the rats came tumbling. Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats, old plodders, young friskers, fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, cocking tails, pricking whiskers, families by tens and dozens, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives—all followed the Piper. From street to street he piped forward, step by step, until they reached the river Weser, where all plunged and perished—except one who swam across and lived, carrying his manuscript to Rat‑land, his commentary preserved. The sound he heard was a scrape, a bite of apples, a moving away of pickle tubs, a leavening of conserve cupboards, a drawing of corks from train‑oil flasks, a breaking of butter cask hoops. It seemed as if a voice sweeter than harp or psaltery breathed out, “Oh rats, rejoice! The world is one vast drysaltery! So munch on, crunch on, take your dinner, lunch, breakfast, supper!” And he stands to this very day, saying that in Transylvania a tribe of alien people ascribe outlandish ways and dress to their fathers and mothers, who once were trapped in subterranean prisons and now walk in the streets of Hamelin, yet they do not understand how or why.
“So, Willy, let us and you be wipers of scores, out with all men—especially pipers: whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, if we have promised them anything, let us keep our promise.”
Summary of The Pied Piper of Hamelin
- Popularity: The legend of the Pied Piper of Hamelin is a German folktale that was first recorded in the 16th century. It became widely known after Robert Browning’s poetic version was published in 1842. The story has remained popular because it blends humor, horror, and moral lesson in memorable characters and striking imagery.
- Representation of the Fairy‑Tale Genre: The tale is a classic fairy story. It contains fantastical elements—magical music, talking animals—and archetypal characters: the trickster piper and the innocent children. Its moralistic tone warns against breaking promises and betraying trust, while its darker ending subverts the lighthearted expectations of traditional fairy tales.
- Major Themes: The story explores greed, the importance of keeping promises, the power of music, loss, betrayal, and mob mentality. The rats symbolize unchecked greed, the piper stands for justice and retribution, and the children illustrate the loss of innocence. Music serves both as a tool of revenge and a symbol of hope, reinforcing the timeless lessons embedded in the legend.
Analysis of Literary Devices Used in The Pied Piper of Hamelin
Robert Browning used several literary devices to strengthen the poem’s impact. The major ones include:
- Alliteration: Repetition of consonant sounds at the beginning of words, such as “Split open the kegs of salted sprats.”
- Assonance: Repetition of vowel sounds within nearby words, for example, “on creatures that do people harm.”
- Consonance: Repetition of consonant sounds in close proximity, such as in “‘Tis clear, cried they, our mayor’s a noddy.”
- Hyperbole: Exaggeration for emphasis, as seen when the rats are described as causing extreme destruction.
- Imagery: Sensory details that paint vivid pictures, like “A pleasanter spot you never spied.”
- Irony: Using language that conveys a meaning opposite to its literal sense, as in “‘Tis clear, cried they, our mayor’s a noddy.”
- Metaphor: Direct comparisons without “like” or “as,” such as “It’s as my great‑grandsire, starting up at the trump of doom’s tone, had walked this way from his painted tombstone.”
- Onomatopoeia: Words that imitate their meanings, e.g., “With shrieking and squeaking / In fifty different sharps and flats.”
- Personification: Giving human traits to non‑human entities, as when a rat’s sound “makes my heart go pit‑a‑pat.”
- Simile: Comparisons using “like” or “as,” such as “eyes twinkling like candle‑flames.”
- Symbolism: Using objects to represent ideas, such as the scarf of red and yellow stripes symbolizing the piper’s multicolored identity.
Analysis of Poetic Devices Used in The Pied Piper of Hamelin
While many devices overlap with literary ones, poetry employs several specific techniques:
- Diction: The poet chooses vivid, descriptive, and playful words. For example, “vermin” describes the rats, and “killed” emphasizes their severity.
- End Rhyme: The poem follows an ABAB pattern in many stanzas, though the scheme is not strict throughout.
- Meter: The poem is written in trochaic tetrameter, with four trochees per line. A trochee consists of a stressed syllable followed by an unstressed one.
- Rhyme Scheme: The rhyme scheme varies by stanza, providing rhythmic diversity.
- Poem Type: It is a narrative poem, telling a story about the Pied Piper’s journey.
- Stanza Structure: The poem is divided into 15 stanzas of varying length.
- Tone: The tone is playful and lighthearted, yet it contains darker moments that underline the story’s moral.
Quotes to be Used
And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, if we’ve promised them aught, let us keep our promise.