The wine of Bernkastel is called "Doctor's wine," or even shorter
still "Doctor," and it has been known by this singular name for more
than five hundred years.
About the middle of the fourteenth century Bishop Bohemund lay ill of
a very violent fever at Bernkastel. The worthy man was obliged to
swallow many a bitter pill and many a sour drink, but all without
avail. The poor divine began at last to fear the worst. Despite his
high calling and his earnest search after holy things, his bishopric
on the lovely Moselle pleased him better than any seat in heaven. He
caused it to be proclaimed throughout the length and breadth of his
diocese, that whoever should be able to cure him of this terrible
fever, be he layman or learned doctor, should receive his pastoral
blessing, and a rich present into the bargain.
At that very time, a brave old warrior lived at Treves, who heard
about the suffering bishop and had pity on him in his great need.
Moreover this gray-haired veteran, whose name has not come down to
posterity, was very much indebted to the bishop, for once, many years
before, Bohemund had saved him from the hands of the enemy in a
skirmish near Sponheim.
The noble old soldier was much distressed to hear that the holy man
was suffering so terribly. He remembered too, that once he himself had
been attacked by violent fever and had fought hard with death, and
that his friends had talked about pills and certain bitter drinks, but
he had sent them all away and had called his servant, desiring him to
bring him a good bowl of fiery Bernkastler wine. When he had taken a
hearty drink,--no small matter for one lying ill of fever--he awoke
out of a deep sleep twelve hours later, the fever completely gone.
Why should not this same Bernkastler cure, thought he, have the same
effect on the worthy prelate?
After considering for a time, the old knight set out quite alone from
his castle in the forest of Soon to visit his spiritual benefactor,
taking only a little cask with him.
Bohemund, lying on his sick bed, is said to have cast a very
suspicious look at the good man who stated that he could cure him, but
who carried all his medicines and mixtures in a little cask on his
shoulder. The knight however, making a sign to the officious servants
and attendants to leave the chamber, informed the reverend gentleman
of what he was about to do. He then calmly took the plug out of the
cask, and gave the sick man a drink of the sparkling wine which he had
brought with him.
The bishop readily swallowed the wine at one draught. Another was
administered to him soon after, and the eminent prelate fell into a
deep sleep.
The next day the people of Treves heard with great joy that the fever
had completely disappeared.
The bishop on awaking took another stout draught, and sang out of the
depths of his grateful heart:--
"This famous wine restored my health,
Sure, 'tis a splendid doctor."