The Truth Behind The Pied Piper of Hamelin

C.A. Asbrey

The German town of Hamelin is the capital of the Hamelin-Pyrmont region of Lower Saxony, but it’s known the world over for the tale of the magical piper who led the rats from the town, only to return with a heart full of vengeance when he wasn’t paid for his services. A church window dating from around 1300 is the first mention of the story, but that was destroyed in 1660. Johannes de Lüde, Dean of Hamelin had a chorus book from around 1384 containing a Latin verse of eyewitness account. His mother was reportedly there. The Rattenfängerhaus (Rat Catcher’s House) in Hamelin bears the inscription:

In the year 1284 on the day of [Saints] John and Paul on 26 June 130 children born in Hamelin were lured by a piper clothed in many colours to Calvary near the Koppen, [and] lost.   

The Wedding House has a similar inscription, as has the town gate and many supporting manuscripts tell a very similar story, so something obviously happened. But what?

One theory is that the Dancing Mania that swept through Europe in the 12th century contributed to the tale. This was possibly a form of mass psychogenic illness that caused a contagion of manic dancing in the sufferers. One case in 1237 involved a large group of children who danced from Erfurt to Arnstadt, a distance of 12.92 miles. Some contribute the mania to ergot poisoning; a fungus that grows on rye, wheat, oats, and barley and causes Ergotism. Ergotism is also known as St.Anthony’s Fire, named after the monks who specialised in treating the condition, and manifests with symptoms such as muscle spasms, fever, mania, hallucinations, unable to speak, dazed, uterine contractions, vomiting and unconsciousness. Controlled doses were used to induce abortions, and as it also constricted blood supply it could be used to stop bleeding after childbirth. That same vasoconstriction also meant that the victim’s feet and hands could be damaged leading to shooting pains, gangrene, and amputation.           
Other possible explanations include a pilgrimage they never returned from, and children really did go en masse on pilgrimages in the Middle Ages in Europe. The most famous is The Children’s Crusade of 1212, where thousands of children marched to the Middle East to join the crusades. The movement failed, and many died or were sold into slavery as it was unsanctioned and unsupported. It is possible that children did leave on the crusade and that parents lied to the king and the church about the loss of the children, as the crusade was not approved, but the date is wrong. Hamelin’s episode has a very definite of the date of 1284. Others say that it may have been a military campaign, with the Pied Piper being a recruiter. Many documents state the date as the 26th June, midsummer’s day, which had significance in agricultural societies, with a battle taking place between the persistent pagan beliefs and the growing power of the church. Some suggest that the piper was a shaman leading the children away to perform midsummer rites, and that a battle ensued between local monks and the pagans, causing children to be taken away into monasteries and nunneries. This seems fanciful, and there’s no evidence to back this up whatsoever. Nor is William Manchester’s book suggesting that the piper was a predatory pedophile supported by evidence either. It’s clear that the rats were a later addition, and the agreed date of the departure was too early for it to be a cryptic reference to those who died of the plague.   

The answer may lie in the odd clothing worn by the piper, and in a battle you may never have heard of. The Battle of Bornhöved meant that an area previously occupied by Slavs was available for occupation by Germans. It broke the Danish hold on the region, and there is historical evidence of systematic efforts to get able-bodied youths to colonize Brandenberg and Pomerania. We do know that the bishops and dukes of Pomerania, Brandenburg, Uckermark, and Prignitz sent out recruitment agents offering rewards for young people prepared to locate to the newly won lands and settle there. The agents were accompanied by drummers and pipers in bright theatrical clothes to catch people’s attention-and that was no coincidence as these glib locators looked like entertainers. They were. 

Jongleurs were itinerant musicians who were at the bottom of the ladder of paid musicians. They were all round entertainers, telling stories, performing tricks, singing and playing instruments. Jongleurs performed in groups as well as alone, but the next step up the career ladder gives us more of a clue and is a more likely suspect. Minstrels wore distinctive coloured clothes, a livery provided by the court that employed them, reflecting the heraldic colours of that aristocratic family and could be described as ‘pied’ – having two or more colours. They had permanent employment for at least part of the year in the court of a nobleman or in a town, but they did travel, and mostly in the summer – remember that the date is given as midsummer’s day. Unlike jongleurs, they only played and sang, but people did dance to their music, again reflecting elements of the legend. Monks were instructed not to watch minstrels as the festivities could lead them into sin. So that gives us a brightly coloured musician, and people actively encouraging the young to leave. The battle took place in 1227, and landowners were still encouraging people to move by the time of the exodus of 130 children (more likely young people) in 1284.

To investigate the theory that many young people were tempted away from Hamelin for a new future in much the same way as people emigrated to the New World, historian Ursula Sautter notes that thousands of people from Saxony and Westphalia headed east, and the etymology of the villages proves it. There are five villages called Hindenburg running in a straight line from Westphalia to Pomerania, and three called Spiegelbergs. Other names from the area are scattered around the area of Beverungen south of Hamelin to Beveringen northwest of Berlin to Beweringen in modern Poland. We know that people moving for a new life often take their favoured place names with them.

More compelling is the research into family names done by Linguistics professor Jürgen Udolph. He entered family names from Hamelin into a database and estimated that they mostly ended up making a settlement near Starogard in what is now northwestern Poland. Local Polish telephone books list names you would not expect in that region. Many appear to be derived from German names that were common in the village of Hamelin in the thirteenth century. The names include Hamel, Hamler and Hamelnikow, all apparently derived from the name of the original village.

And in a final sad touch, it would explain the poignant ending to the tale as the blind and the lame were left behind as they were unable to do the heavy physical work required to build a new community.