"There is too much fish. Leave out the gudgeons; the rest is all right. Do not forget to place cushions on the chairs of the citoyennes Tallien, Talma, Beauharnais, Hainguerlot, and Mirande. And for five o'clock precisely. Have the ices sent from Veloni's; I don't want any others."
The first restaurant is generally said to have been established in Paris about the middle of the eighteenth century (1765) by a cook named Boulanger, in the rue des Poulies, with this device to herald its purpose: Venite omnes qui stomacho laboratis, et ego restaurato vos—"Come all ye that labour with the stomach, and I will restore you." Grimod de la Reynière, however, mentions a certain Champ d'Oiseau as the first of his calling, his establishment being in the rue des Poulies and dating from 1770. The Marquis de Cussy, in turn, who is also a good authority, has credited the signboard of the first Parisian restaurant to a man named Lamy.
The motto and signboard were a conspicuous part of the olden tavern, restaurant, and inn, as well as other shops devoted to retail trade, and one views with regret, both on the Continent and in Great Britain, the increasing disappearance of this picturesque feature. At one time the signboard was obligatory on every landlord and vender of wines and liquors, and scarce a century ago few public places that provided for the entertainment of man and beast were without their illuminated indices.
Among the most common in France was that of La Truie qui file, or the Spinning Pig, in vogue among merchants of provisions. A la Marmite de Gargantua and Aux Moutons de Panurge were favourite signs of restaurants. The frequent Lion d'Or of hotels and taverns often represented a traveller asleep—au lit on dort. Au Cheval blanc, a very popular title, was usually accompanied by the traditional phrase, Ici on loge à pied et à cheval. The traveller who has visited the smaller towns of France and who remembers his dinners will associate many an excellent table d'hôte with the shield of the white charger. Au bon Coign was a sign in favour with wine-shops situated at a corner of a street, while Au Saint Jean-Baptiste was a common device of linen-merchants. A wine-merchant opposite Père-Lachaise had these words printed on his ensign, Ici on est mieux qu'en face. A not unfrequent Parisian signboard was that of an ox dressed with bonnet, veil, and shawl, to signify bœuf à la mode. A pastry-cook's manifesto depicted a little girl climbing up to reach some cakes in a pantry, with the title, A la petite Gourmande. A corset-maker's sign was accompanied by a large corsage, with this explanation of its office, Je soutiens les faibles, je comprime les forts, je ramène les égarés. The emblem of a stocking-maker represented a grisette trying on a new pair of hose and exhibiting her nether charms to an admirer—with the motto, A la belle occasion. Among the wittiest of old enseignes was that of a Paris boot-maker named Nicque, who had for his device a splendid bouquet of flowers, with the inscription Aux Amateurs de la Botte à Nicque. Representations of the sun and the moon were among the oldest and most common signs both on the Continent and in England, the sixteenth-century French poet Désiré Arthus writing in his "Loyaulté Consciencieuse des Taverniers":
"Sur les chemins des grands villes et champs,
Ne trouverez de douze maisons l'une,
Qui n'ait enseigne d'un soleil, d'une lune.
Tous vendant vin, chascun à son quartier."
(On roads that wind through town and field,
Not one in twelve but flaunts the shield