Changelings
An Essay by
D. L. Ashliman
Copyright 1997
Return to:
Contents
- The legends
- A living superstition
- The legend genre
- Martin Luther on changelings
- Shared responsibility
- Justifying infanticide
- Brewing in eggshells
- Other protective measures
- Working mothers
- Gender bias
- Organized religion
- The stolen child's perspective
- Selma Lagerlöf
- Conclusion
- Footnotes
- Additional notes and links
A mother had her child taken from the cradle by elves. In its place they
laid a
changeling with a thick head and staring eyes who would do nothing but eat
and
drink. In distress she went to a neighbor and asked for advice. The
neighbor
told her to carry the changeling into the kitchen, set it on the hearth,
make a
fire, and boil water in two eggshells. That should make the changeling
laugh,
and if he laughs it will be all over with him. The woman did everything
just as
her neighbor said. When she placed the eggshells filled with water over
the
fire, the blockhead said:
Now I am as old
As the Wester Wood,
But have never seen anyone cooking in shells!
And he began laughing about it. When he laughed, a band of little elves
suddenly appeared. They brought the rightful child, set it on the hearth,
and
took the changeling away. {footnote 1}
* * * * *
The following true story took place in the year 1580. Near Breslau there
lived
a distinguished nobleman who had a large crop of hay every summer which
his
subjects were required harvest for him. One year there was a new mother
among
his harvest workers, a woman who had barely had a week to recover from the
birth
of her child. When she saw that she could not refuse the nobleman's
decree, she
took her child with her, placed it on a small clump of grass, and left it
alone
while she helped with the haymaking. After she had worked a good while,
she
returned to her child to nurse it. She looked at it, screamed aloud, hit
her
hands together above her head, and cried out in despair, that this was not
her
child: It sucked the milk from her so greedily and howled in such an
inhuman
manner that it was nothing like the child she knew.
As is usual in such cases, she kept the child for several days, but it was
so
ill-behaved that the good woman nearly collapsed. She told her story to
the
nobleman. He said to her: "Woman, if you think that this is not your
child,
then do this one thing. Take it out to the meadow where you left your
previous
child and beat it hard with a switch. Then you will witness a miracle."
The woman followed the nobleman's advice. She went out and beat the child
with
a switch until it screamed loudly. Then the Devil brought back her stolen
child, saying: "There, you have it!" And with that he took his own child
away.
This story is often told and is known by both the young and the old in and
around Breslau. {footnote 2}
We all want explanations for happenings that fall outside of our control,
especially those that have a direct bearing on our welfare. It is only
natural
that our forebears wanted to know why some children fail to develop
normally,
and what our responsibilities are toward these handicapped individuals.
The two
stories quoted above are part of a vast network of legends and
superstitions
that give primitive but satisfying answers to these questions. These
accounts
-- which, unlike most fantasy tales, were actually widely believed --
suggest
that a physically or mentally abnormal child is very likely not the human
parents' offspring at all, but rather a changeling -- a creature begotten
by
some supernatural being and then secretly exchanged for the rightful
child. {footnote 3} From pre-Christian until
recent
times, many people have sincerely and actively believed that supernatural
beings
can and do exchange their own inferior offspring for human children,
making such
trades either in order to breed new strength and vitality into their own
diminutive races or simply to plague humankind.
These beliefs continued to exert influence well into the nineteenth
century, and
in some areas even later. Writing in England in 1890, the pioneer
folklorist
Edwin Sidney Hartland could state: "In dealing with these stories [about
changelings] we must always remember that not merely are we concerned with
sagas
of something long past, but with a yet living superstition." {footnote 4} In 1911 W. Y. Evans-Wentz,
himself a
true believer in the reality of fairy life, published an extensive study,
The
Fairy-Faith in Celtic Countries, which contains numerous accounts of
exchanged children. This book, with a new introduction praising the
author for
his courageous acceptance of "a greater reality beyond the everyday
world," was
reissued in 1966. As late as 1924 it was reported that in sections of
rural
Germany many people were still taking traditional precautions against the
demonic exchange of infants. {footnote 5}
Finally, writing in 1980, Hasan M. El-Shamy reports: "The belief that the
jinn
may steal a human infant and put their own infant in its place is
widespread in
numerous parts of Egypt." {footnote 6}
Views
held firmly for a thousand years do not die easily, especially when they
appear
to answer some of life's most troublesome questions.
In keeping with their higher level of popular credibility, changeling
accounts
are much more often classified as legends than as fairy tales by folktale
scholars. The Grimms themselves delineate between these two principal
folktale
genres in terms that twentieth-century folklorists still find meaningful:
"The
fairy tale is more poetic, the legend is more historical.... While it is
the
children alone who believe in the reality of fairy tales, the folk have
not yet
stopped believing in their legends." {footnote
7} Legends, they conclude, are less fantastic and more firmly rooted
in
reality than fairy tales. Storytellers use a variety of literary devices
to
emphasize the familiarity and credibility of their changeling accounts.
In
contrast to fairy tales, which nearly always take place at an indefinite
"once
upon a time" and in an unnamed place, changeling legends frequently are
set in a
precisely identified time and location. The opening of "Beating the
Changeling
with Switches" is typical in this regard: "The following true story took
place
in 1580. Near Breslau there lived a well-known nobleman." Another
changeling
tale begins with the sentence: "A reliable citizen of Leipzig told the
following
story." {footnote 8}
The Grimms do not identify their "reliable citizen of Leipzig," but they
do
identify another of their sources, a man whose name certainly carried a
great
amount of authority and respect throughout Protestant Germany: Martin
Luther.
The influential church reformer was not only an avid storyteller, but --
as his
own writings demonstrate -- he was also a true believer in changelings.
Luther
was very much a product of his own times with respect to superstitious
beliefs
and practices. He sincerely believed that Satan was responsible for the
malformed children known as changelings, and that such satanic child
exchanges
occurred frequently. {footnote 9} In
Luther's
theological view, a changeling was a child of the devil without a human
soul,
"only a piece of flesh." This view made it easy to justify almost any
abuse of
an unfortunate child thought to be a changeling, including the ultimate
mistreatment: infanticide. Luther himself had no reservations about
putting
such children to death. {footnote 10}
In spite of the general credibility given to changeling accounts, and the
support that they received from respected church leaders (Catholics as
well as
Protestants), there is evidence that many people were uneasy about the
cruel
treatment that the legends seemed to advocate. This evidence comes from
the
stories themselves. Parents who suspect that their child has been
replaced with
a changeling almost never decide on a course of action without first
receiving
advice and moral support from a third party. This fact is stated or
implied in
virtually all changeling tales, although it is usually communicated in an
offhand manner. For example: "In distress she [the mother] went to her
neighbor
and asked her for advice." {footnote 11}
The
parents of seriously handicapped children obviously wanted others to share
the
moral responsibility for whatever decisions were reached.
Folklore suggests that parents sought and received advice and approval
from all
segments of society before taking any drastic measures with their
suspected
changelings. The Grimms' accounts offer excellent examples of this
broadly
based community support: In three of their tales, the advice comes from
ordinary people: a neighbor, a stranger on the street, and an
unidentified
person. In two other instances, the mothers -- peasant women -- are
advised by
their feudal landlords, and in one tale, "The Changeling in the Thuringian
Forest," {footnote 12} the mother
receives
information from her pastor that enables her to discover her changeling's
true
identity and to drive him away. Several levels of community support are
suggested by the sources of advice in these changeling stories. Peer
approval
is indicated by the participation of ordinary people in the parents'
decisions,
and the voice of civil and ecclesiastical authority is added by the
pronouncements of the landlords and the clergy.
The cruelty to which suspected changelings are subjected in folktales
makes it
clear why the perpetrators of this harsh treatment sought the symbolic
approval
of their community. In the Grimms' accounts alone, we learn of
changelings
being thrown into water, beaten severely with a switch, left unfed and
crying in
an open field, or placed on a hot stove. This list of ordeals can easily
be
expanded by consulting other changeling tales from throughout northern
Europe.
There is ample evidence that these legendary accounts do not misrepresent
or
exaggerate the actual abuse of suspected changelings. Court records
between
about 1850 and 1900 in Germany, Scandinavia, Great Britain, and Ireland
reveal
numerous proceedings against defendants accused of torturing and murdering
suspected changelings. {footnote 13}
Similar
incidents were undoubtedly even more common in earlier centuries, but
prior to
the mid nineteenth century, public opinion, religious attitudes, and legal
indifference made it unlikely that such cases would be prosecuted. The
court
records of Gotland, Sweden, for 1690 document one of the rare exceptions.
A man
and woman were placed on trial for having left a ten-year-old "changeling"
-- a
sickly child who was not growing properly -- on a manure pile overnight on
Christmas Eve, hoping that the elves who had made the exchange some years
earlier would now return their rightful son. The child died of exposure.
{footnote 14} Without doubt many similar
cases
went unprosecuted and unrecorded. Folklore sources suggest that such
fatal
abuse of malformed children was not unusual.
The mistreatment of changelings in folklore accounts often (although not
always)
leads to a happy outcome for the human parents and their rightful child.
To
halt the abuse of their offspring, the otherworldly parents frequently
rescue
the changeling and return the stolen mortal child. Stories with these
fantasy
endings provided hope, wish fulfillment, and escape to an era that was
plagued
with birth defects and debilitating infant diseases.
But not all changeling accounts have happy endings. Often the child
thought to
be a changeling is driven away or killed, but there is no indication that
the
healthy original child is returned. The tales that omit the safe recovery
of
the rightful child authentically illustrate a painful aspect of family
survival
in pre-industrial Europe. A peasant family's very subsistence frequently
depended upon the productive labor of each member, and it was enormously
difficult to provide for a person who was a permanent drain on the
family's
scarce resources. The fact that the changelings' ravenous appetite is so
frequently mentioned indicates that the parents of these unfortunate
children
saw in their continuing existence a threat to the sustenance of the entire
family. Changeling tales support other historical evidence in suggesting
that
infanticide was not infrequently the solution selected.
Cruel abuse is not the only way to force demonic parents into reclaiming
their
misshapen children in changeling legends, although this is the most
frequently
described method. A more humane approach was to force the changeling to
laugh
or to make him utter an expression of surprise, which -- according to
popular
belief -- would expose his true identity and force his supernatural
parents to
take him away. A common trick was to make preparations in the presence
of the
changeling to brew beer or to cook stew in eggshells. This approach is
described in some detail in Jacob Grimm's German Mythology {footnote 15} and is used in numerous
folktales
throughout Europe. Typically the changeling responds with surprise,
claiming
that he is as old as a nearby forest, but has never before witnessed such
a
sight.
The belief that a changeling was actually much older than the child he was
impersonating could lead to a fear of the child, as illustrated in the
Icelandic
tale "The Changeling who Stretched." {footnote
16} This legend tells of a woman who is left alone in the house with
a boy
of confirmation age who is suspected of being a changeling. She watches
in
horror as the lad, who apparently thinks that he is alone, yawns and
stretches
until he reaches the rafters. Terrified at being alone with this monster,
the
woman screams, and the boy collapses as if he had been shot, resumes his
former
size, and returns to his bed. It is easy to see how this tale could have
grown
out of a woman's fears of being left alone with a mentally retarded but
sexually
maturing male.
A changeling's ostensibly great age plays an important role in yet another
folktale motif: the child who neither matures nor dies, remaining
helplessly
dependent and insatiably hungry for an interminable amount of time. The
opening
paragraph of the Norwegian tale "The Changeling Betrays His Age" {footnote 17} exemplifies the problem: "On
Lindheim Farm, in Nesherad, there was supposed to have been a changeling.
No
one could remember when he was born or when he had come to the farm. No
one had
ever heard him speak, but all the same they were afraid to do anything to
him or
make him angry. He ate so much that the people at Lindheim had been
living from
hand to mouth, generation after generation, on his account."
Although other sources suggest that changelings seldom lived longer than
seven
years, or -- at the longest -- eighteen or nineteen years, {footnote 18} the fear could easily evolve
that a
changeling might survive several normal lifetimes, bringing poverty and
suffering to a family for many generations. To some the burden of caring
for a
retarded child must have appeared to be interminable. If one believed
that such
problems may not resolve themselves during an entire human lifetime, then
drastic measures would be all the more justified.
Changeling folklore not only explained why some children fail to grow and
develop normally and helped to justify the extreme actions that may have
been
taken (whether in fact or only in fantasy) to free the parents or society
from
the burden of caring for handicapped children, it also provided protective
measures against demonic exchange.
The most frequently mentioned preventative practice, and one that
undoubtedly
evolved because of its positive consequences, was the insistence that the
newborn infant be watched very carefully until certain danger periods had
passed. "Women who have recently been delivered may not go to sleep
until
someone is watching over the child. Mothers who are overcome by sleep
often
have changelings laid in their cradles," recorded Jacob Grimm in his
German
Mythology. {footnote 19} In the
legend
appropriately entitled "Watching Out for the Children," we are given to
believe
that a child would have been stolen by a supernatural being, had not the
parents
been so watchful during the night. According to most beliefs, a newborn
was to
be watched continuously for the first three days of its life; a somewhat
reduced, but still high level of watchfulness was called for during the
first
six weeks. The fact that the mother (or her substitute) was expected to
keep
the baby close at hand for at least six weeks helped to protect it from
environmental dangers, aided the child's psychological development, and
contributed significantly to family cohesiveness.
An added benefit of the six weeks of close watching was the relief thus
granted
to the mother from some of her most strenuous duties, thus aiding her
recovery
from pregnancy and delivery. In "The Changeling in the Thuringian
Forest," the
exchange of infants takes place when the mother leaves her baby alone in
the
house while she fetches wood, a common but strenuous household task. In
other
legends, {footnote 20} babies are
exchanged
when landlords force peasant mothers to do difficult harvest labor before
their
six-week recovery periods are past. These accounts thus impart the lesson
that
women recovering from confinement should not do work that takes them away
from
their newborn babies. The last line of one such story states the lesson
succinctly: "And from that time forth he [the nobleman] resolved to never
again
force a woman who had recently given birth to work." {footnote 21} Interestingly, this
prohibition is
not described as being for the sake of the women, but rather for the
protection
of their children. But however stated, the mothers themselves shared in
the
benefits of this belief.
Although the welfare of the family (and of society at large) dictated that
women
recovering from childbirth be spared many of the strenuous tasks that
normally
were expected of them, the patriarchal bias of German society did not
provide
for a woman's workload to be lightened for her own benefit. The only
acceptable
justification for this temporary relief from strenuous duties was the
belief
that the woman's child was thus being protected from supernatural harm.
Numerous other superstitions regulating a woman's post-confinement
activities
confirm this view, for example, the belief that "if a woman spins wool,
hemp, or
flax within six weeks of her confinement, her child will someday be
hanged." {footnote 22} Consistent with changeling
beliefs, this superstitious practice spared the recently delivered woman
the
hardest of the spinning tasks, not for her own sake, but for the
protection of
her child.
Other aspects of changeling folklore illustrate this same anti-female
stance.
Most changeling accounts deal with male babies, implying that the fairies,
elves, trolls, and devils have but little use for a female human child.
In
fact, in some areas boys were dressed in girls' clothing until they were
ten or
eleven years old in order to deceive supernatural kidnappers in search of
young
boys. {footnote 23} Further, a number
of the
protective measures prescribed by tradition have a strong patriarchal
bias. For
example, the popular belief that "whenever the mother leaves the infant's
room
she should lay an article of the father's clothing on the child, so that
it
cannot be exchanged." {footnote 24}
Numerous religion-oriented protective measures also evolved, which further
strengthened the connection between changeling beliefs and organized
churches.
{footnote 25} As one would expect,
Catholics
sought to shield infants with holy water, crucifixes, and representations
of
various saints, whereas Protestants relied on the Bible for protection,
often
placing the book itself (or perhaps a single page) in the cradle as a
talisman.
In both faiths the unbaptized child was deemed to be especially
vulnerable,
although baptism did not offer complete protection against demonic
exchange.
Interestingly, the Grimm brothers omit most references to Christianity in
their
writings on changelings, probably in order to emphasize their view that
the
changeling legends and practices still extant in nineteenth-century
Germany were
basically survivals from pre-Christian Europe.
Nearly all changeling tales are told from the concerned parents' point of
view.
In the same manner as the parents, we the audience learn that something is
wrong
with an infant, discover the cause, and are told how to effect a
resolution.
The perspective of another involved party -- the changeling, the
elf-parents, or
the abducted child -- is seldom represented. Shakespeare's A
Midsummer-Nights's Dream builds an exception to this general rule.
An
important subplot of this play is built around Oberon's and Titania's
(king and
queen of the fairies) fight over the guardianship of a changeling boy.
Another exception is found in the Finnish tale "The Kantele Player," {footnote 26} in which we first learn that
a
child exchange has taken place when the abducted person -- now a beautiful
and
mature woman -- appears to a lonely young man who is playing a kantele (a
Finnish harp) and reveals her story to him.
The couple seeks out the woman's father, a count, and convince him that
his
supposed daughter, who is twenty-one years old and "will neither grow nor
die,"
is in truth a changeling, a witch's daughter. "But what should we do with
this
child who has been with us for twenty-one years?" asks the count. Acting
upon
the advice of the returning daughter, who knows the ways of witches, they
build
a roaring fire, and the legitimate daughter herself throws the imposter
into the
flames. A cry is heard from the witches who have been watching through
the
window: "Don't burn our child!" The changeling's skin bursts from its
body, and
only an alder stump is left in the fireplace.
This story has a genuine fairy-tale ending (for everyone save the
changeling).
The kantele player, in spite of his poverty, marries the count's daughter,
and
-- we are told -- they still live in the stone house built for them by her
grateful father.
An even happier conclusion (this time for all parties concerned) is given
to us
by Selma Lagerlöf, who won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1909, in
her
children's book "The Changeling." {footnote
27}
This artful fairy tale weaves the primitive motifs of troll-lore into a
humane
and satisfying fantasy story.
True to tradition, the author describes the kidnapping of a mortal child
by an
old troll woman, who leaves her own misshapen baby in its place.
Following the
pattern of countless folk legends, the parents are told to beat the
changeling
child with a heavy cane if they want to recover their own baby. The
father is
only too willing to abuse the ugly troll child, but the mother's maternal
instincts cause her to intercede on the changeling's behalf. Several
episodes
are described in which the father attempts to follow the community's
expectations by cruelly punishing or even killing the unwanted child, but
each
time the mother selflessly protects the troll baby.
Her kindness and perseverance are rewarded in the end, and the two
children are
restored to their original parents. Only then do we learn that during his
absence the human child had lived in an unseen parallel world to that of
his
parents. Every act of cruelty or of kindness visited upon the troll child
by
his human guardians had been duplicated upon him by his troll stepmother.
It
was a mother's kindness and humanity rather than the expected abuse and
neglect
that rescued her child. Lagerlöf thus cloaks an ancient and cruel
superstition in a modern and humane dress.
The advance of science during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries
slowly but
surely eroded the popular belief that malformed and retarded children
likely
were not human at all, but rather the offspring of some demonic being,
offspring
that could be neglected, abused, and even put to death with no moral
compunctions. As these theological explanations for retardation gave way
to
medical explanations, community values and personal attitudes changed to
such an
extent that the very word "changeling," its synonym "killcrop," and their
equivalents in other languages now have become historical curiosities,
survivals
of beliefs and practices that helped our northern European forebears --
for good
or for bad -- face the problems of life and death when confronted with
mentally
or physically defective children.
- "The Elves," Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Children's
and
Household Tales (1812), no. 39/III; migratory legend type 5085.
Translated
by D. L. Ashliman.
- "A Changeling is Beaten with a Switch," Jacob and
Wilhelm
Grimm, German Legends (1816), no. 88; migratory legend type 5085.
Translated by D. L. Ashliman. Other descriptions of changelings in the
Grimms'
German Legends are found in nos. 60, 82, 83, 89, 90, 91, 153.
- Studies of changeling beliefs and practices include:
- Heinrich Appel, Die Wechselbalgsage, diss. Heidelberg
(Berlin, 1937).
- Hanns Bächtold-Stäubli, Handwörterbuch des deutschen
Aberglaubens (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1927-1942), v. 9, col.
835-864.
- Katherine M. Briggs, An Encyclopedia of Fairies, Hobgoblins,
Brownies,
Bogies, and other Supernatural Creatures. (New York: Pantheon, 1976),
pp.
69-72).
- Edwin Sidney Hartland, The Science of Fairy Tales: An Inquiry into
Fairy
Mythology. (London: Walter Scott, 1891), pp. 93-134.
- Gisela Piaschewski, Der Wechselbalg: Ein Beitrag zum Aberglauben
der
nordeuropäischen Völker (Breslau I.: Maruschke & Berendt
Verlag,
1935).
- Lewis Spence, The Fairy Tradition in Britain
(London; New York: Rider, 1948), pp.
228-254.
- Edwin Sidney Hartland, The Science of Fairy
Tales: An
Inquiry into Fairy Mythology. (London: Walter Scott, 1891), p. 118.
- Friedrich Ranke, Die deutschen Volkssagen
(München: C. H. Becksche Verlagsbuchhandlung Oskar Beck, 1924),
p.
138.
See also Karl Friedrich Wilhelm Wander, Sprichwörter-Lexikon: Ein
Hausschatz für das deutsche Volk (Leipzig: F. A. Brockhaus,
1867-1880), v. 4, col. 1840.
- Hasan M. El-Shamy, Folktales of Egypt
(Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1980), p. 179.
- Foreword to Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, The German
Legends of
the Brothers Grimm, translated by Donald Ward (Philadelphia: Institute
for
the Study of Human Issues, 1981), v. 1, pp. 1-2.
- "Watching Out for the Children," Jacob and Wilhelm
Grimm,
German Legends (1816), no. 89.
- Martin Luther, Werke, kritische Gesamtausgabe:
Tischreden
(Weimar: Böhlau, 1912-1921), v. 4, pp. 357-358.
- Martin Luther, Werke, kritische Gesamtausgabe:
Tischreden
(Weimar: Böhlau, 1912-1921), v. 5, p. 9.
- Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Children's and
Household
Tales
(1812), no. 39/III.
- Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Märchen aus dem
Nachlaß, edited by Heinz Rölleke (Bonn: Bouvier Verlag
Herbert
Grundmann, 1979), p. 91.
- Edwin Sidney Hartland, The Science of Fairy
Tales: An
Inquiry into Fairy Mythology (London: Walter Scott, 1891), pp.
121-122.
Gisela Piaschewski, Der Wechselbalg: Ein Beitrag zum Aberglauben der
nordeuropäischen Völker (Breslau I.: Maruschke & Berendt
Verlag,
1935), pp. 141-146.
- For an account of this case see Ilmar Arens and Bengt af
Klintberg, "Bortbytingssägner i en gotländsk dombok fran
1690,"
Rig, v. 62, no. 3 (1979), pp. 89-97.
- Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie (Frankfurt
am
Main:
Ullstein, 1981 [reprint of 4th edition of 1876]), v. I, pp. 387-389.
- Jacqueline Simpson, Icelandic Folktales and
Legends
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1972), pp. 25-26.
- Reidar Christiansen, Folktales of Norway,
translated
by Pat Shaw Iversen (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964), no. 40.
- The Grimm brothers supply this information in a
footnote
to
their German Legends (1816), no. 82.
- Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie
(Frankfurt am
Main:
Ullstein, 1981 [reprint of 4th edition of 1876]), v. 3, p. 451, par. 510.
- For example: Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, German
Legends
(1816), nos. 88, 90.
- Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, German Legends
(1816),
, no.
90.
- Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie
(Frankfurt am
Main:
Ullstein, 1981 [reprint of 4th edition of 1876]), v. 3, p. 442. In the
same
work similar post-confinement beliefs are described in the following
entries, v.
3, pp. 434-477, nos. 1, 35, 36, 240, 308, 451, 458, 509, 510, 538, 654,
672,
733, 765, 782, 844, 845, 885, 900, 1049, 1064, 1084.
- E. Estyn Evans, Irish Folkways (London:
Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1957), p. 289.
- Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie
(Frankfurt am
Main:
Ullstein, 1981 [reprint of 4th edition of 1876]), v. 3, p. 460.
- Gisela Piaschewski, Der Wechselbalg: Ein Beitrag
zum
Aberglauben der nordeuropäischen Völker (Breslau I.:
Maruschke &
Berendt Verlag, 1935), pp. 86-91, 110-113.
- August von Löwis of Menar, Finnische und
estnische
Märchen (Düsseldorf: Eugen Diederichs Verlag, 1962), no.
19.
- Swedish title: Bortbytingen. English
translation:
The Changeling (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1992).
Revised September 3, 1997.