The winter of 1783/1784 was extremely cold in central Europe. When the unusually large amount of snow and ice melted in the spring, many German cities witnessed severe floods. These flood events are now considered one of the most severe natural disasters in continental Europe in the early modern period.
The scribe of the Jewish community of the city Bonn, a man named Simon of Copenhagen, wrote an extensive and lively report titled “Flood Lament” (Sipur Bechi Neharot). The text was printed in original Hebrew in Amsterdam the same year, 1784. It starts with the following exclamation:
“Hear me brothers and my people. Open your ears and listen to my words. These were days when my hair turned white and I was made better.”
Unfortunately I could only find an excerpt of a German translation of the text. I translated it roughly into English, using DeepL.
“It was January 25, 1784, and there was a heavy frost. People began to cross the Rhine on foot and with carts. You could walk across the river to our cemetery and bury the dead. That was a great miracle. God was merciful, he let the people cross and the water didn’t hit the people, he didn’t want to wipe them out. It stayed that way until well into February.
Then the feast of Purim approached, and suddenly a month of joy turned into a month of mourning. The Souls of the people were broken and their hearts melted. Everything became rigid.
After 31 days of heavy frost, the ice suddenly split and swallowed everything on it. God’s will was difficult to understand. Many did not come back and the water threatened to kill us all. At first the water stood in our alley up to our ankles, then up to our knees, then up to our hips. People could no longer get out of the houses, it was a curse.
The water was endless, wave followed wave. It became the sea and rushed like the sea. Nobody could leave the house. In the morning, the water rose even higher and people had to retreat to the upper floor of the house or the roof. Not a soul had any peace. Many brothers rescued small children. People jumped from roof to roof to save themselves. They tried to reach the other side of the street. You could no longer put your feet on the ground because you could no longer see it.
Everyone screamed for help. Our community pleaded with the Court to send barges to take the inhabitants to dry places. God heard them cry out and sent help.”
I found the German text on the extensive website of the Brückenhofmuseum in Königswinter (North-Rine Westpahlia).