The tune that has broken off for six hundred years

Stand on the Market Square on the hour and you will hear what the people of Kraków heard in the days of the Jagiellonians: a trumpeter in the window of the taller tower of St Mary's plays the hejnał to the four points of the compass. The melody is simple, a dozen or so notes, and it always ends the same way: abruptly, as if someone had torn the trumpet from the player's lips.

The legend explains it like this. In 1241, as the Tatars approached the city, the watchman on the tower saw them first and began to sound the alarm. The gates were closed in time, but a Tatar arrow struck him in the throat and the tune broke off halfway. In his memory it has been played that way ever since.

Historians shake their heads. The oldest records of the hejnał date from the fourteenth century, and the legend of the arrow was first written down by an American author, Eric Kelly, in his 1928 book The Trumpeter of Krakow. Before that nobody had heard of it. Most likely the tune was simply cut short because the trumpeter played it four times in a row, from four windows, and trimmed the last phrase to keep up.

Which does not change the fact that the hejnał is the oldest city signal in Europe played without interruption. It is sounded by firefighters from the post on the tower, in shifts, day and night, all year round. At noon it is broadcast by Polish Radio, since 1927, with a break only for the war. The trumpeters say winter is hardest: the mouthpiece freezes to the lips and the wind at 54 metres blows so hard you have to hold on to the window frame.

A small ritual for visitors: after the hejnał the trumpeter waves to anyone who waves at him. Do it. They say it brings luck, and it certainly brings a smile to someone who has just climbed 239 steps.