The work of the great Dr. Sigmund Freud centered the attention of the whole scientific world
on the subject of dreams.
It is not surprising, therefore, that one of Freud's fellow psychologists, Dr. Ignez
Gézard, should have made a hobby of collecting and recording strange dreams which were imparted
to him during his years of practice in old Vienna.
What is surprising, however, is that in the doctor's collection there is at least one
dream which no psychiatric theory can account for, a dream that defies the very premises
of Freudianism itself.
The rain fell steadily on the streets of Amsterdam.
Hendrik van der Moen, a member of the Amsterdam police force, drew the collar of his coat
around his neck and shuddered as he lingered at the canal bridge, fascinated by the ripple
of the raindrops in the water below him.
My God, a man in the water and he is found and gagged.
Early the following morning, in the little town of Lokel, Switzerland, one Gustav Mertz,
who was both the police chief of Lokel and also its police force, read a telegram in
the privacy of his office.
I identified him as Jakob Dauer, a watchmaker of your village, was still alive when rescued
from the Amsterdam canal but had been bound and gagged and severely beaten, died without
regaining consciousness.
Obviously a victim of murder.
Later that morning, young Rudolf Bauer, son of the late Jakob Bauer, received a call from
police chief Gustav Mertz.
My father, dead?
Murdered Rudolf.
He went to Amsterdam on business, I suppose.
Yes, to buy materials.
He had enemies there?
Why, no.
He scarcely knew anyone in Amsterdam.
And here in Lokel?
Well, no, unless you would call Ulrich Tobler an enemy.
He owed father a good deal of money.
He refused to pay him.
It made father very angry.
At least it used to.
A few weeks ago, father stopped talking about it.
It was almost as if, well, as if for some reason.
He was afraid of Ulrich Tobler.
It was not until two days later, when he was going through the deceased's personal papers,
that Gustav Mertz found out why the watchmaker had grown afraid of his neighbor Ulrich Tobler.
That was when he found the record of the dream.
It was carefully written down in Jakob Bauer's neat, sturdy hand.
If I had had this dream only once, I would not bother to set it down.
But it has come to me not once, nor twice, nor even three times.
Four times in all I have had it.
In the dream, I was arguing with Ulrich Tobler.
I reminded him of the money he owed me, and I told him he must pay.
But he refused and laughed at me.
And then I grew very angry, and I said I would sue him.
A very evil look came into his eyes, and he turned away.
I too turned away.
And then, before I could take a step, something struck me on the back of the head.
I fell to the ground.
And the next thing I knew, I could see myself, bound and gagged and bleeding.
Around me there was nothing but a cold, wet blackness, for I had been thrown unconscious
into the waters of a canal.
Yes, this was the dream that Jakob Bauer had written down a few days before he died.
Can such a dream be classified in the Freudian manner as the mere expression of a subconscious
fear or desire?
It did not rather be accepted as a prophecy, a prophecy incredible but true.