The Calf Haunting of the Käfigturm: Bern’s Grotesque Prison Tower
Said to be cursed forever after mistreating his prisoners, the jailer in Bern’s former prison tower, Käfitier is said to be haunted by the ghost of a monstrous calf.
Moon Mausoleum
An online magazine about the paranormal, haunted and macabre. We collect the ghost stories from all around the world as well as review horror and gothic media.
Said to be cursed forever after mistreating his prisoners, the jailer in Bern’s former prison tower, Käfitier is said to be haunted by the ghost of a monstrous calf.
Said to be cursed forever after mistreating his prisoners, the jailer in Bern’s former prison tower, Käfitier is said to be haunted by the ghost of a monstrous calf.
In Bern’s bustling old town, surrounded by boutiques, cafés, and the chatter of political discourse, stands the Käfigturm, or the ominously named Cage Tower. Today, it is home to the Polit-Forum Bern, a hub for democratic debate. But behind its clean, civic façade lies a chilling past that refuses to rest.
Read More: Check out all ghost stories from Switzerland
The tower may no longer hold prisoners, but according to legend, one creature still returns to pace its ancient stones, snorting, howling, and thirsting for water that no well can quench. They call it the Käfitier, or the Cage Beast. Those who’ve heard its midnight stomp know the sound of old justice gone horribly wrong.

The Käfigturm was built in 1256 as part of Bern’s first city wall, a mighty defensive gate at the upper end of Marktgasse. As the city grew beyond its medieval limits, the tower’s role shifted. By the 15th century, after a devastating fire consumed parts of the city and damaged its original prison in the Zytglogge, the Käfigturm was repurposed to house the condemned.
Inside the cold, cramped chambers, suspects were interrogated, tortured, and imprisoned. Etchings still scar the walls, crude graffiti left by those whose voices were never heard in court.
In 1641, the aging tower was demolished and rebuilt on the same spot, only larger, colder, and even more unforgiving. For over 200 years, this was the epicenter of Bernese punishment. Only in 1897 did it finally close its iron doors to prisoners, becoming an archive and eventually, a site for civic enlightenment.
But the dark imprint remained.
On certain moonless nights, pedestrians walking past the Käfigturm claim to hear something heavy fall. Like a loud, dull thud, as if a great weight has crashed from the roof to the cobblestones below. If they dare to look closer, they may catch a glimpse of a grotesque, spectral calf, its limbs twitching and too long for its body, rising from the ground in silent agony.
The calf then charges down the street, hooves echoing on the stone path between the tower and the Seilerbrunnen, or the Anna Seiler Fountain, named for the woman who founded Bern’s first hospital in the 14th century.
It stops only to drink from the water, bending its grotesque neck and drawing long, chilling gulps before releasing a howl that turns blood cold.
The calf, they say, is not just a cursed animal, but a cursed man. A former jailer of the Käfigturm, known for his cruelty, is said to have died under mysterious circumstances. During his time at the tower, he was infamous for denying clean water to prisoners, offering only dirty water.
His soul, blackened, could not rest. Now he returns in the form of a tormented animal, doomed to drink from the same fountain he once denied to others. This is the Käfitier, the embodiment of vengeance, suffering, and twisted justice.

Eerily, the legend bears resemblance to another Bernese ghost: the butcher’s apprentice of Rathausgasse, who mistreated young calves in life and now haunts the streets in the form of one himself. That ghost, too, takes the shape of a calf, wandering the alleys where once it wielded a blade.
Read the whole story: The Cursed Butcher Apprentice Haunting Rathausgasse in Bern
Is there a thread between these tales? A hidden pattern in Bernese folklore that ties cruelty to transformation, prison to beast? Or are these simply urban echoes—haunted mirrors reflecting the sins of those who once held unchecked power?
Whatever the truth, the calf ghost of the Käfigturm still stomps through the night. And every thud it makes is a reminder: those who show no mercy in life may not be shown any in death.
Today, the Käfigturm stands as a monument to civic conversation and democratic ideals, part of Bern’s UNESCO World Heritage status. Tourists pass beneath it every day, unaware of the horrors once locked behind its walls.












P. Keckeis & M. Waibel, Legends of Switzerland. Bern, Zurich 1986
Das Schaltier | Märchenstiftung