“To think we buy cloaks lined with ermine
For folk that can’t or won’t determine
What’s best to rid us of our vermine…”
It’s the ‘Pied Piper of Hamlin’ by Robert Browning and I could go on, having memorised much of ist charming rhymes as a child. The story of a piper who rids a town of its rat infestation, only to be cheated of his reward and so takes vengeance by ridding the town of its children. From Hanover, where we were staying, Hamlin is a simple hop on the train, about 20 miles. It turns out that the legend may very well be based on 13th Century history where swathes of young people were lured away from this area of Northern Germany to work in newly acquired territory to the East by honey-tongued work agents.
We went vainly round looking for remnants of the legend but were unable to find even a decent statue of the piper to be photographed next to. Of all the cities and towns we have visited on this trip (many) Hamlin, or Hameln as it is in German, is the dud. The whole town has been set up to respond to its 4 million a year tourists but no real traces of the story are celebrated in the public art. The only statue of the piper depicts him as an innocent-looking adolescent, as if the sinister nature of the legendary figure has to be bowdlerised to disnify the tale for the modern tourism industry. As in the legend the town corporation has again swindled the piper of his worth.
“A thousand gulders! The mayor looked blue.
So did the corporation too!”
But the town continues to exploit the legend. This year they are preparing a production of ‘Robin Hood’ at the local theatre, no doubt re-using the Medieval costumes so often deployed in pied piper pageants. A nice little earner for the mayor and corporation.
peoplearerubbish 