The city of Korneuburg adjacent to Vienna was conquered by the Swedes during the Thirty Years' War in 1646. However, following an occupation of six months it was taken back by the imperial forces. The city had by that time expanded substantially, but many of its buildings lay buried in rubble. Vermin, especially rats, multiplied beneath the ruins of the destroyed buildings until no cellar and no food storage room was safe from their devastation. Neither cats, nor traps, nor poison could bring them under control, and the city's inhabitants felt forced to flee.

A public meeting of the town council was held to decide once and for all whether to attempt continued but futile resistance against the animals or to simply abandon one's belongings, which in truth were no longer belongings at all.

There were spirited arguments back and forth when suddenly and unexpectedly a man stepped before the judge's bench and stated that he possessed the means to put an end to the city's plague. No one knew him, but his offer was accepted with loud acclaim. Everyone looked forward with fond anticipation to the next morning, when the promised rescue was to take place. In return for his deed the rescuer was to be paid a large sum of money.

As the cock crowed the man did indeed enter at the gate. He was wearing an unusual hunting outfit and carrying a very large hunter's bag. He pulled from the bag a small black transverse flute, upon which he played mournful melodies. Hoards of rats and mice followed the pipe's sound, emerging in great masses from their holes in every corner of every house in the city. They followed the flute player, who walked directly toward the Danube. There he stepped into a boat and -- continuing to play the flute -- rode to the middle of the stream. Irresistibly attracted to the music, the rats attempted to swim after him, but they all drowned in the river's raging current. Thus Korneuburg was saved.

The piper now returned and asked for the agreed payment.

Someone asked him who he was.

"I came here from Vienna," he said, "because I heard of your need. My name is Hans Mousehole, and I am the official rat killer of Magdalenagrund [a former suburb of Vienna, now part of the Mariahilf district]."

"Any fool can say that," answered a most wise councilman. "We know full well that your help is not of this world. Are you in league with the Evil One? Now see here, there is no obligation to keep one's word with black magicians or kobolds, so just take your leave, or we will turn you over to a witches' court."

"My dear people," replied the rat catcher, "your sense of honor is remarkable, for it seems to be directed at saving you money. But hear me out. You have no right to question the means by which I saved your city from the plague. It is sufficient that it is free. I have no intention of allowing myself to be chased out of your city, and I am even less inclined to reveal to you the inner workings of my deeds, which seemed so miraculous to you. Take note that there are not merely evil, but also good higher powers. I used the latter to do good for you, for good things can come only from that which is good. But if you ungrateful people cheat me out of my well-earned pay then you will come to know the evil powers as well. Thus take heed of my final word. In your city there is a recess in the wall of the house not far from the church and at its right side. Place the payment we agreed upon there before the next dawn. If you fail to do so, I will find my own reward."

He departed, followed by the loud and derisive laughter of the councilmen.

It should come as no surprise that the next morning there was no money lying in the niche.

With the sun's first rays Korneuburg experienced its own drama. Hans Mousehole, dressed in a purple-red robe and playing a golden flute, stood at the marketplace in front of the town hall. The melodious tunes that he evoked from his instrument must have sounded like music from heaven to the children, for they gathered about the mysterious musician with joyful haste. Still playing, he walked toward the Danube, where a large and handsome ship awaited him.

Led by the flute player, the procession boarded the ship. Its sails billowed, and it floated out to the middle of the stream.

This time the rat catcher did not return. To the contrary, the ship sailed further and further from the city, and neither it nor any who were aboard were ever seen there again.

Many years later the horrified citizens of Korneuburg received news that in that same year a large number

of children had been placed up for sale in the slave markets of Constantinople. They had no doubt that the children were theirs, and they rued their lack of honor, but too late.

History has recorded that Korneuburg was freed of rats at the time stated above and by a rat catcher from Vienna in the manner described. Until not long ago there was a small rectangular marble plaque on a house in Pfarrgäßchen Street. On it could be seen an upright rat, a weathered gothic inscription, and the designation of a year, of which only the number IV could be made out. Also – in remembrance of the event – herdsmen from the area called their cattle and sheep together by cracking a whip instead of blowing on a cow horn.

Rats returned to the area with the great flood of 1801. Since then herdsmen have given their signals with a horn, as they had done ages ago.

The story of the abducted children, which bears a close resemblance to the legend of the Rat Catcher of Hameln, is undoubtedly based on a factual event. It may well be that during the sad times of the Thirty Years' War a flashy army piper enticed the city's youth into military service and led them away with him, and that none of the recruits returned, for they met death on the battlefield.

Rat Catcher monument at the entrance of the "Ratfänger" bulding in Korneuburg