Our journey back to the origins of the mattress began with a meeting with the woman behind Vallons de Laine. She introduced us to Henry Havard’s Dictionnaire de l’ameublement et de la décoration: depuis le XIIIe siècle jusqu’à nos jours (Dictionary of Furnishing and Decoration: From the Thirteenth Century to the Present Day), published in 1894.
One chapter of this work is devoted to the mattress: its origins, purpose, development, uses, users, driving forces, and evolution over the long course of history.
Havard begins by briefly defining the mattress, then traces its history in France through successive periods.
His account reaches the end of the nineteenth century, which roughly coincides with the founding of Les Ateliers Le Briand.
For our museum of traditional bedding, we have adapted Henry Havard’s text into this chronologically organized article.
Early mattresses were often filled with horsehair, straw, or feathers. The development of wool carding spurred the rise of the wool mattress because the process gave wool a resilience and comfort previously unknown.
This research was made possible by the digitized archives of the Bibliothèque nationale de France and its gallica.bnf.fr platform.
This chapter draws on Havard’s work tracing the history of the mattress as part of the bed.
We have also transcribed the chapter of his Dictionnaire (Dictionary) in which he considers the mattress as a decorative element on furniture such as armchairs, benches, and carriages.
Definition of a mattress
The mattress is one of the principal parts of a bed.
Historically, the French word matelas was spelled in several ways:
- materas, matheras, or matherat
- materasas
- matrace
- mattras
Until around the middle of the sixteenth century, the usual form was materas.
The form materasas belongs to southern France and appears in several fifteenth-century inventories from the Bordeaux region. « Tot prumeyrament, una costa de pluma, de la meya sort, et doas materasas. — Premièrement, un lit de plume, de qualité moyenne, et deux matelas. » (English: “First, a feather bed of average quality, and two mattresses.”) (Invent. de Ramond de Cussac, chanoine de Saint-André (Inventory of Ramond de Cussac, Canon of Saint-André); Bordeaux, 1449).
A mattress is a kind of large, generously filled cushion extending across the whole bed. It was filled with cotton, wool, horsehair, coarse fibers, waste wool, or even moss, enclosed between two layers of ticking, fustian, or a more precious fabric.
Etymology of the word mattress
The French word matelas derives from an Arabic word meaning to throw a cushion on the ground.
During the Crusades, Europeans adopted this Arab way of sleeping. Over time, the Old French materas became matelas.
In ancient times, mattresses were stuffed with horsehair, wool, or straw; the wealthiest slept on feathers.
Mattresses now take many forms, several of which we explain elsewhere on this site.
The history of the mattress
The use of the mattress—or, more accurately, the materas—is very ancient.
Before the Common Era
3600 B.C.: People in Persia used mattresses made from goatskins filled with water.
3400 B.C.: Egyptians slept on piles of palm leaves arranged in a corner of their homes.
200 B.C.: Mattresses in ancient Rome were cotton sacks filled with horsehair, straw, and wool. Wealthy Romans slept on feather-filled mattresses.
The Ancien Régime
The Comptes de Geoffroi de Fleuri, argentier du roi Philippe V (Accounts of Geoffroi de Fleuri, Treasurer to King Philip V) (1320) record the purchase of « 111 livres de coton bailliées à Guillaume Toutain, pour le matelas du Roy amender » (English: “111 pounds of cotton entrusted to Guillaume Toutain to improve the King’s mattress”).
The Compte particulier d’Edouard Tadelin, mercier de Philippe de Valois (Private Account of Edouard Tadelin, Haberdasher to Philip of Valois) (1342) lists « XI pièces de cendaulx estroiz, de XVII aunes la pièce, en greine, pesans IIc IIIIxx IX onces, pour faire matheraz pour madicte Dame » (English: “eleven pieces of narrow cendal, each seventeen ells long, dyed in the grain and weighing 289 ounces, to make mattresses for the said Lady”), meaning the queen, together with « VII livres de coton et IIII onces de soye, pour lesdiz matheraz » (English: “seven pounds of cotton and four ounces of silk for the said mattresses”).
Finally, the Inventaire de Charles V (Inventory of Charles V) (1380) mentions « ung materaz de cendal vermeil, contenant trois aulnes de long et deux aulnes trois quartiers de lé » (English: “a mattress of crimson cendal, three ells long and two and three-quarter ells wide”). Its sumptuous covering and unusual size certainly made it a master among mattresses.
Throughout the Middle Ages, mattresses were generally imposing in size because beds themselves were so large.
These dimensions persisted into the Renaissance. Among the twenty-seven mattresses listed in the Inventaire de Catherine de Médicis (Inventory of Catherine de’ Medici) (1589) were:
- three measuring 6½ feet wide by 7 feet long
- five measuring 5½ feet wide by 6½ feet long
- nine measuring 5 by 6 feet
- three measuring 4½ by 6 feet
- three measuring 4 by 6 feet
The last of these correspond to today’s large beds, which shows just how enormous the first must have been.
Two points emerge from the accounts and inventories quoted above:
- Mattresses were once filled with cotton, an extremely costly imported commodity sold only by grocers.
- They were covered in very valuable silk fabrics.
These two costly features explain why the Compte des Despens de l’Ostel du roy Charles (Account of the Expenses of the Household of King Charles VI), beginning October 1, 1380, and several 1383 accounts titled Gaiges des valiez du Roy et d’autres gens d’ostel (Wages of the King’s Valets and Other Household Officers) list « sommeliers du materaz » (English: “keepers of the mattress”) among the officers of the royal chamber. Their particular duty was to look after this very costly and highly useful piece of furniture.
They also explain why mattresses were carefully packed in special trunks to prevent damage during frequent journeys.
« Pour III malles livrées à Guillotin du Materaz, le jour dessus dict, deux pour le lit le Roy et l’autre pour le materaz. » (English: “For three trunks delivered to Guillotin of the Mattress on the aforesaid day, two for the King’s bed and the other for the mattress.”)
Not every mattress, even then, was as richly appointed as those used by Joan of Burgundy, wife of Philip of Valois, or Charles V, known as the Wise. It is therefore no surprise to hear Christine de Pisan say of the nuns at the Priory of Poissy:
Si ne vestent chemise, et sans langes, (English: They wear no shift and have no linen,)
Gisent de nuis, n’ont pas coûtes il franges, (English: They lie at night without fringed quilts,)
Mais materas (English: But on mattresses)
Qui sont couvers de beaulx tapis d’Amis (English: Covered with fine Arras cloths,)
Bien ordonnez, mais ce n’est que baras, (English: Neatly arranged, yet only for show,)
Car ils sont durs et remplis de bourras. (English: For they are hard and filled with coarse flock.)
Christine de Pisan, writing about the nuns of the Priory of Poissy
Quite ordinary mattresses could also be found among cultured and even refined princes, not only in convents and middle-class homes.
During the Renaissance, mattresses were filled with pea husks, straw, or sometimes feathers, and enclosed in heavy fabric covered with satin, brocade, or silk.
The Inventaire du château d’Angers (Inventory of the Château d’Angers) (1471), for example, lists a « couchete de boys qui n’est point foncée, garnie de troys materaz, de couete, traversier, etc. » (English: “wooden bedstead without a solid base, furnished with three mattresses, a quilt, bolster, etc.”). The absence of any further description suggests that King René made do with simple fustian-covered mattresses. Similarly, the Inventaire de Charlotte d’Albrel (Inventory of Charlotte d’Albret), Duchess of Valentinois (1514), records « deux matheratz et une cothepointe » (English: “two mattresses and one counterpane”).
The previously cited Inventaire de Catherine de Médicis (Inventory of Catherine de’ Medici) likewise includes no fewer than « vingt-sept matelas de fustaine » (English: “twenty-seven fustian mattresses”).
The tradition of richly adorned mattresses had not disappeared, however. Those used on ceremonial beds were often magnificent, and the mattresses on which royal effigies were displayed were no less luxurious.
In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, mattresses were stuffed with straw or feathers and laid on wooden slats tied together with rope or leather.
At the funeral of Francis I in 1547, the king was carried to Saint-Denis followed by his two sons who had died before him. Godefroy tells us in Cérémonial françois (French Ceremonial) (Paris, 1619, p. 292) that the mattress beneath the Dauphin’s effigy was covered « de toille d’argent chargée d’hermine » (English: “in silver cloth laden with ermine”), while the Duke of Orléans’ mattress bore « satin bleu chargé de riches fleurs de lis d’or » (English: “blue satin richly worked with golden fleurs-de-lis”).
The mattresses found at the elegant, sophisticated courts of Jeanne d’Albret and Margaret of Navarre were intended for less somber purposes, but were no less splendid.
The 1555 Inventaire du château de Nèrac (Inventory of the Château de Nérac) lists « Ung matras couvert de taffetas noir, parfumé de senteurs » (English: “a mattress covered in black taffeta and perfumed with scents”). The Inventaire des meubles portés de Pau à Nèrac par ordre du roi de Navarre (Inventory of Furniture Taken from Pau to Nérac by Order of the King of Navarre) (1578) records « Deux matellas de taffetas rouge, et ung traversin de mesme » (English: “two mattresses of red taffeta and a matching bolster”), no doubt intended for Queen Margot’s voluptuous bed. For the height of luxury in such delicate matters, however, we must turn to the beautiful Gabrielle in 1599.
Her inventory describes « Quatre mattelaz, sçavoir deux de satin, l’un blanc et l’autre incarnat, et [les] deux autres de tafetas blanc, prisez et estimez la somme de quinze escuz sol la pièce, qui est en totalle soixante escuz. » (English: “Four mattresses, namely two of satin, one white and the other flesh-colored, and two others of white taffeta, valued and appraised at fifteen gold écus each, for a total of sixty écus.”)
These mattresses were used on her winter bed. For summer she had a bed « de carré de linonte, les pentes et mattelas de lassis recouvert de soye de couleur, rebordés d’or et d’argent » (English: “with a lawn canopy, the valances and lace mattress covered in colored silk and edged with gold and silver”).
The same document also lists « Trois bordeures de mattelas en broderie avec des perles, où est représentée l’histoire de David. » (English: “Three embroidered mattress borders with pearls, depicting the story of David.”)
This display of splendor need not surprise us. Royal lovers have always delighted in luxury at bedtime, and the Inventaire général des meubles de la Couronne (General Inventory of the Crown Furniture) reveals that Madame de La Vallière rested her loving person on three mattresses covered in crimson satin.
Sumptuously dressed mattresses remained in use until the end of the Ancien Régime.
The Inventaire du mobilier de la Couronne (Inventory of the Crown Furniture) compiled on February 20, 1673, lists « Trois matelas de satin rouge » (English: “three mattresses of red satin”). The inventory of January 30, 1681, records mattresses covered in carpet, morocco leather « garni de petites touffes or et: argent et d’un galon tout- autour » (English: “adorned with small gold and silver tufts and braid all around”), roussy, meaning Russian leather, and red satin. Most strikingly, it lists « deux matelas, l’un de damas vert par-dessus, avec bandes de brocatelle autour, et l’autre avec des bandes de mesme brocatelie, garni d’un frangeron d’or tout autour sur les coutures » (English: “two mattresses, one with green damask on top and brocatelle bands around it, and the other with bands of the same brocatelle, trimmed with gold fringe along every seam”).
Such luxurious mattresses were fairly common at the time, as one contemporary book observes: « Outre cet avantage, nous avons encore celui d’avoir la soye en aussi grande quantité que nous en avons besoin, pour faire des draps et des satins, des velours et de toutes sortes d’ouvrages; jusques là même, qu’on en fait des linceuls et des matelas. » (English: “Besides this advantage, we also have silk in as great a quantity as we need to make cloths and satins, velvets and every kind of work, to such an extent that even winding sheets and mattresses are made from it.”) (Les délices de la France (The Delights of France); Leiden, 1728.)
It should be added that the filling did not always match the splendor of the outer covering. Most mattresses used at court were indeed filled with wool and horsehair, but some contained waste wool or even coarse flock.
An Inventaire du maréchal de la Meilleraye (Inventory of Marshal de La Meilleraye), compiled at the Arsenal on February 18, 1664, describes « Un bois de lict… garni de son enfonsure, deux mattelas remplys de bourg (sic) et couverts de thoisle. » (English: “A wooden bedstead… fitted with its base, two mattresses filled with flock (sic) and covered with cloth.”)
These later quotations give us the word matelas, if not in its modern spelling, then at least with its present-day pronunciation.
That pronunciation came into use in the sixteenth century.
We first encounter it in Rabelais: « Frère Jan, de ce ne se souciant, écrit-il, empourta la couverture, le matelat et aussy les deuz linceulx en nostre nef, sans estre veu de personne. » (English: “Brother John, paying no heed to this, carried the blanket, mattress, and both sheets aboard our ship without being seen by anyone.”) (Pantagruel, book V, chapter XV.)
Montaigne, for his part, writes: « Vous faites malade un Allemand de le coucher sur un matelas, comme un Italien sur la plume, et un Français sans rideau et sans feu. » (English: “You make a German ill by laying him on a mattress, just as you do an Italian by laying him on feathers, or a Frenchman by giving him neither bed curtains nor a fire.”) (Essais (Essays), book III, chapter XIII.)
From that time onward, the pronunciation remained and the spelling became fixed.
The materials used inside mattresses, however, were far less consistent.
We have seen that they were made primarily from wool and cheaper materials such as coarse flock and waste wool. We have also seen that cotton mattresses were made at a very early date, when cotton was a precious and extremely expensive material.
Cotton mattresses appear to have been reserved mainly for the hottest weather.
Several authors recommended them as summer mattresses as early as the fifteenth century.
Horsehair mattresses appeared in the seventeenth century. The Sieur d’Ouville believed that he was among the first to think of using this filling.
At least, that is one possible conclusion from the cheerful and improbable boast he included among the fashionable Gasconnades (Gascon Tales) of his day: « Je veux que vous sçachiez que les matelats sur lesquels je repose mes membres ne sont garnis que des moustaches de ceux dont mon épée a été victorieuse. » (English: “I would have you know that the mattresses upon which I rest my limbs are filled only with the mustaches of those defeated by my sword.”) (See Élite des Contes (A Selection of Tales).)
What is certain is that horsehair mattresses appear in every wealthy household from 1650 onward. We have just noted their presence in several Inventaires des meubles de la Couronne (Inventories of the Crown Furniture). Molière’s inventory, compiled in 1673, lists « Trois matelas, .l’un de futaine…, rempli de laine; un autre aussi de futaine rempli de bourre, et l’autre de futaine et toile rempli de crin. » (English: “Three mattresses: one of fustian… filled with wool; another, also of fustian, filled with flock; and the other of fustian and cloth, filled with horsehair.”)
Horsehair mattresses appear to have enjoyed considerable success at the time, and their qualities were certainly valued.
Some writers even praised them solemnly and strongly recommended their use. The author of Délices de la France (The Delights of France) writes: « On a trouvé l’invention de faire des matelas de crin, afin qu’à chaque moment que l’on se roule et qu’on se tourne dans le lit, l’on trouve une couche nouvellement faite, parce que c’est le propre du crin de ne prendre jamais de forme et de tenir incessamment un lit bouffi, puisque la pesanteur du corps ne l’affaisse point. » (English: “The invention of making horsehair mattresses means that whenever one rolls or turns in bed, the bed feels freshly made, because horsehair never takes a permanent shape and keeps a bed continually plump, as the body’s weight does not flatten it.”)
As a final endorsement, science itself did not disdain to praise their merits.
From the beginning of the eighteenth century, mattresses were made from cotton and wool.
By the middle of the eighteenth century, mattress covers were being made from quality fabrics such as wool and cotton. Mattresses began to resemble those we know today: their edges were finished, they were stitched and button-tufted, and they were filled with coconut fiber, other natural fibers, cotton, or even horsehair.
In 1781, the physicians of the Hôtel-Dieu met to determine which mattress filling offered the greatest hygienic advantages. These eminent practitioners had no hesitation in favoring horsehair mattresses.
They declared « qu’un matelat qui seroit fait avec deux tiers de laine et un tiers de crin seroit sans contredit meilleur [qu’un lit de plume], mais qu’il seroit sujet à deux inconvénients: l’infection que la laine contracte et retient et la trop grande chaleur qu’elle procure, alors que le matelas de crin ne présente aucun de ces désavantages » (English: “a mattress made with two-thirds wool and one-third horsehair would unquestionably be better [than a feather bed], but it would have two drawbacks: the contamination that wool absorbs and retains, and the excessive warmth it provides, whereas a horsehair mattress presents neither disadvantage”). (See Documents pour servir à l’histoire des hôpitaux de Paris (Documents for the History of Paris Hospitals), vol. II, p. 100, and Mémoires contenant l’avis du Bureau des Médecins de l’Hôtel-Dieu (Reports Containing the Opinion of the Hôtel-Dieu Medical Board), April 6, 1781.)
After so authoritative a ruling, with the case heard and the verdict delivered, horsehair mattresses had no serious competition left to fear.
Such eminent intervention was not unnecessary, however. Other alternatives to wool were being vigorously promoted.
Attempts to popularize moss mattresses began as early as 1770. The Almanach sous verre (Almanac Under Glass), which promoted the invention, supported its case with arguments that were certainly not negligible, although the experiment ultimately came to little: « Plusieurs personnes, dit-il, ayant fait faire à la campagne des matelas de mousse s’en sont fort bien trouvées; ils sont fort élastiques et ne sont point sujets à servir de retraite aux souris, aux puces, ni aux punaises. » (English: “Several people who had moss mattresses made in the countryside found them very satisfactory; they are highly resilient and are not liable to shelter mice, fleas, or bedbugs.”)
The argument certainly had merit. Around the same time appeared « coussins et matelas en peaux huilées et douces remplies d’air » (English: “cushions and mattresses of soft, oiled skins filled with air”).
According to the January 1776 issue of the Mercure, these mattresses were made « de peaux l’huilées, collées et cousues l’une contre l’autre, en forme de poche » (English: “from oiled skins glued and sewn together to form a pouch”), with a valve through which « on entonnoit dans la cavité autant d’air qu’il pouvoit y entrer » (English: “as much air as the cavity could hold was funneled inside”). They were the ancestors of rubber and air mattresses, which were still used for sick people in Havard’s day. When they first appeared, they may have seemed a remarkable novelty. Their inventor would have been far less proud had he known that Louis XI slept on just such a mattress.
The royal Comptes de la Chambre (Accounts of the Chamber) for 1478 tell us that the king owned « ung lict de vent » (English: “a wind bed”), made and covered with a « grant cuir d’Ongrie » (English: “large hide of Hungarian leather”), which was inflated with bellows whenever he wished to use it.
Our forebears’ many concerns about mattresses, illustrated by the examples above, can be explained by two factors.
The first is that this useful item of bedding did not become widespread—or more accurately, democratized—until the end of the seventeenth century.
Until then, most middle-class households in many provinces, and even in Paris, had made do with a feather bed and straw mattress.
This absence of mattresses is in turn explained by the fact that wool carding also began only in the seventeenth century. Before then, wool had merely been beaten.
In terms of resilience, carded wool is incomparably superior to wool that has simply been beaten.
Anyone who doubts the remarkable superiority of carded wool need only reread the correspondence of Abbé Galiani:
« Parlons d’une affaire sérieuse, écrit de Naples le spirituel abbé à Mme d’Épinay (17 août 1771). Sachez qu’un des plus grands maux des Napolitains, c’est qu’ils couchent sur des matelas fort durs. Cela vient de ce qu’ils battent leur laine sans la carder. Je me suis donné toutes les peines possibles pour réparer cet inconvénient; mais tout a été peines perdues, parce qu’ils n’ont point de ces machines propres à carder et n’en connoissent point la forme. Je suis résolu d’en faire venir de Paris. Dites-moi ce que coûterait tout l’attirail pour carder un matelas. Si je ne me trompe, il y a deux peignes en fer. Mettez-moi cela au clair, et tâchez au moins qu’en dormant, je me souvienne des lits de Paris. Bonsoir. » (English: “Let us speak of a serious matter,” the witty abbé wrote from Naples to Madame d’Épinay on August 17, 1771. “You should know that one of the great misfortunes of the Neapolitans is that they sleep on very hard mattresses. This is because they beat their wool without carding it. I have taken every possible trouble to remedy the problem, but all my efforts have been wasted because they have none of the machines used for carding and do not know what they look like. I have resolved to have them sent from Paris. Tell me what the complete equipment for carding a mattress would cost. Unless I am mistaken, there are two iron combs. Clarify this for me, and at least let the beds of Paris come to mind while I sleep. Good night.”)
Some time later, on October 19, 1771, he continued: « Ma commission des peignes étoit que, comme on ne connoît point ici l’art de carder la laine des matelas, ce qui fait qu’on est fort durement couché, je souhaitois avoir de Paris le peigne avec lequel on carde les matelas, pour introduire cet art à Naples. Je voulois savoir auparavant combien en coûteraient l’achat et le transport. » (English: “My request concerning the combs arose because the art of carding mattress wool is unknown here, which makes for very hard beds. I wanted to obtain from Paris the comb used to card mattresses so that I might introduce the craft in Naples. First, I wished to know the cost of purchase and transport.”) (Correspondance de l’abbé Galiani (Correspondence of Abbé Galiani), vol. I, pp. 431 and 405.)
Abbé Galiani had certainly turned to the right place. Savary des Bruslons writes: « Les meilleures cardes qui se fassent en France sont celles de Paris » (English: “The best carding tools made in France are those of Paris”).
A final letter from the abbé tells us that the equipment he so ardently desired was sent shortly afterward.
The ever-kind and obliging Madame d’Épinay was not the only woman of letters whose correspondence recorded such down-to-earth concerns.
« Faites carder mon matelas; je ne veux pas être mangée aux vers de mon vivant », George Sand wrote to her friend Jules Boucoiran. (English: “Have my mattress carded; I do not want to be eaten by worms while I am still alive.”) (Nohant, August 31, 1834; Correspondance (Correspondence), vol. I, p. 281.)
We can think of no more auspicious way to end this brief account of so useful and unassuming an object.