Brooms in early modern European art: feminine oppression, resistance, and reclamation

The first reaction I usually get when I tell people that I make brooms is a joke about witches or flying away on them (I’ve heard just about every variation). After enough of those jokes, I became interested in the history of the relationship between witches and brooms. I was especially interested in looking into the historical perception of brooms as social tools and the meanings that were imposed upon them both in the oppression of women, and the subsequent subversion of those notions. When I first started researching, I quickly realized that it was a difficult history to trace. Broom making--along with other trades that began in domestic spheres—-have been historically under-represented in the collection and telling of history (which is a whole other gendered conversation that we don’t quite have time to get into today). However, I began coming across more and more works of art that depicted brooms and the environments they were used in. Early modern Europe ended up being the perfect place to look for these.

Eliza Smith, The Compleat Housewife, 1727.

Alexander Niccholes, A Discourse of Marriage and Wiving, 1620.

The early modern period brought on a new interest in the domestic space, though at the same time, it brought a new anxiety about it. This was a time of heightened surveillance, both from official authorities and individual communities. The advent of the Protestant Reformation heightened social tensions that led to concerns regarding ‘moral’ issues. We can see this trend in marriage manuals of the time where gendered roles were strictly outlined and women were increasingly taught how to be ‘good’ wives.

Jacob Duck, A Woman Ironing, c. 1650-55.

Pieter Janssens, Room in a Dutch House, oil, c. 1668-72.

This increase in the interest in domestic spaces was also represented in art of the time. The Renaissance brought rich depictions of households and homemaking scenes which revealed images that were few and far between prior to this time period. This movement especially flourished in the Dutch art world as seen in pieces by Jacob Duck and Pieter Janssens. These depictions of feminine spaces within the home were deeply tranquil and provided the audience with a sense of comfort as the women in the paintings quietly do domestic labor. Though when considering the landscape of gendered expectations of the time, we can assign new meaning to women solemnly sweeping the house or spinning wool. This is what was expected of and imposed upon them. This style of art only scratches the surface of of depictions of brooms in the early modern period.

Joos de Bosscher, The Spinning Room, c. 1590s.

There was also an increase in almost satirical art that shows what would happen if a man lost control of his household. These works contain a myriad of domestic tools that were deeply associated with femininity and the duties of women being weaponized against men. The setting of the “spinning room” became the focus of many pieces of art of the time, usually representing the notion of a traditionally feminine space being turned around and put in the hands of men. In Joos de Bosscher’s piece, we see a broom, a distaff, and various other spinning tools in a slew of emasculating chaos as husbands kneel down at the feet of their wives. And some early modern Europeans understood all of this to be deeply troubling, with an author of one of those social handbooks writing: “Wherever the distaff dominates the sword, Things are going badly for the head of the household.” As brooms, distaffs, and other domestic tools began being given power not to oppress women, but to be used as tools to combat that, a threat to the social order was posed, and those wanting to keep that order began to place new meaning on these tools, which brings us to witches.

The European witch trials were a deeply gendered affair. While men were also accused of witchcraft, the victims of these accusations and trials were overwhelmingly women, and this was not a coincidence. The traits of witches were equated with femininity, and femininity was weaponized as a tool of these accusations. Some of the traits that the Malleus Maleficarum--one of the most notable witch-hunting books of the time--outlined about women that made them more susceptible to witchcraft were that they were easily swayed, in either the direction of good or evil, they they were more bodily, and they had an innate need to spread any information they were given. There’s a lot to unpack in that manual, but I want to focus on just a couple aspects and their relation to brooms. 

Hieronymus Bosch, Sorcières et monstres [Witches and monsters], c. 1475-1525.

One of the meanings that was placed on brooms with the advent of the witchcraft trials was a sense of sexual immorality. I don’t think it’s any coincidence that the objects that witches were accused of flying on were all of similar shapes--we see brooms, distaffs, rakes… Witches were understood to “ride out on such oiled sticks to their ‘pleasure’”. I would argue that the manufactured relationship between sexually immoral witches and brooms was twofold: we initially see this negative connotation being placed upon the domestic tools that were so deeply associated with femininity to attempt to strip them of any good social standing or ability to emasculate men, but it also acted at the creation of more fear about female sexual liberation without men. So we can begin to see how brooms and other domestic tools became almost symbols of autonomy, sort of backfiring on those who wanted to create negative connotations between feminine tools and the women who wielded them.

Unknown, Witches Leaving a House by Riding Brooms up the Chimney, c. 1579.

This piece by an unknown artist is one of my favorite representations of early modern brooms. I think it encapsulates the anxieties tied to witches, domestic tools, domestic spaces, and femininity, so I’m going to try to wrap everything up with this image. This piece depicts a house full of women with a man peeking through the door, speaking to the heightened level of surveillance of the time, as well as the worry that came along with feminine spaces. As we can see in the Malleus Maleficarum, as well as other witch-hunting books of the time, is that these spaces made up solely of women were places where ideas could be spread free from the input of men. This prospect was especially worrying when regarding witchcraft since women were often considered to be very easily persuaded, making them more susceptible to the ideas of witchcraft. The women in this image are rubbing oil or ointment on themselves--something that was understood to be done before taking flight--and they are physically leaving the domestic space. I’m not interested in understanding if people of the time believed that women were actually flying on brooms, but more so the metaphorical meaning that comes with that. The symbol that was once used to oppress women and confine them to the domestic space was now being used to physically leave it. This was only possible through the connections that--not these women--but those who wanted to keep strict gender roles in place, drew between witches and brooms. It was a manufactured meaning that sought to further villainize feminine domestic tools, but did quite the opposite.

Hocus Pocus, 1993.

The notion of domestic tools being used by witches has not disappeared (think the Sanderson sisters flying away on brooms, mops, and vacuums). They remain tools of escape and autonomy, breaking the oppressive meanings that have been imposed on them time and time again through gendered domestic roles. It speaks volumes that the broom specifically has persisted throughout history and pop culture.