For his purpose, he would be content to have the beam shining onto the hillsides on the clearest moonlit nights. He provided a simple wooden structure for a bed, a table and a chair-then waited patiently whilst the guilty poacher was brought in chains to the castle. After the man had lain in the deepest dungeon for a night or two to ponder his fate he was hauled up the winding stairs to the lighthouse tower. Then without trial he was thrown in with some food and water and the trapdoor was sealed. It was now autumn and the days were getting shorter.

For a full week thick clouds totally obscured the moon and then it came into view shining clear and bright. By this time the poacher in the tower was panicking, he’d reached fever pitch anticipating his fate. He appeared at the great circular windows frantically waving his arms above his head to attract attention. It was then that he achieved his wish, for his animated black silhouette was reflected on one of the hillsides in a giant ghostly image of his true size. He was there for all to see in his misery and rage as he tore at his hair and lurched in front of the strengthened glass. His frustration was complete as he realised this was to be his punishment. Like a caged animal in the zoo he thundered about, turning his crazed image onto the other hills as he spun around the tower, attracting crowds of curious onlookers. These simple folk stared in fearful wonder at this terrible punishment the Baron had so successfully devised for him.

The days and weeks went by and people came from far and wide to view the strange phenomenon of the prisoner in the tower, praying for the moon to give them a sighting of the “Moth in the Bottle” that was already being dubbed one of the seven wonders of the world. Someone who did more than pray was the priest of the nearby chapel who shook his head at the Baron’s diabolical treatment of one of his parishioners. Sinner or not, he didn’t deserve to be treated in such a humiliating manner-it went against all humanity. He besieged his friend the Baron to release the man or at least to give him a fair trial. The Baron’s heart was turned to stone and it took several months for the priest to persuade him to relent. He finally did so and the moth was released from the bottle so to speak and allowed to return home. The Baron himself became a hermit figure and only ever saw a few servants as they brought him food. Then he went to live in the Tower where he died a broken man.

In World War Two the castle was completely destroyed by the Allies but miraculously the tower survived undamaged and rumour had it that a bomb was seen to make a direct hit but was bounced off by the hand of the Baron’s ghost. On clear nights the moon is still said to shine a mysterious ghostly image on the seven Bavarian hills. End.