The New England witch window, also known as a Vermont or coffin window, is a unique architectural feature found in older homes in the New England region of the United States. These windows serve a practical purpose while also carrying a folklore legend. The witch window is a slanted or diagonal window that is typically installed in the gable end of a house, although it can also be found on other parts of the building. The most common placement is on the second floor, where the roofline creates a slope that makes the installation of a traditional window difficult. Instead of creating a custom window with an angled frame, the witch window is a simpler solution. The origins of the term "witch window" are unclear, but there are a few theories.
The Reason Some Vermont Homes Have 'Witch Windows'
Anomalous architecture abounds across the country, where regional quirks can offer everything from coal chutes to mother-in-law beds that descend from the ceiling. In Vermont, one trademark design is easily spotted from the street: It’s a slanted gable window installed at a seemingly haphazard angle, and it's known as a “witch window.” What is it, and, well, just why?
According to Vermont Public Radio, the angled windows are typically seen in 19th-century farmhouses that added a one-story living area after the initial construction. Depending on how the level was constructed, it might be obscured by a portion of the roof. The builder or homeowner, eager to get more natural light in the addition, would opt to install a window at an angle rather than have no window at all.
Why not custom-order a window? That was uncommon, as farmers typically made do with stock models they could order through catalogs. And if your remodel involved taking out an old window, then you were probably tempted to recycle it in another location—even if you had to cram it in a tight space.
But why call it a “witch window”? The answer may stem from some lingering superstitions over witches in New England, as it would be hard for one to fly in when a window is tipped. They’ve also been referred to as “coffin windows,” as there was a belief that it would be easier to get a coffin out of a second-story window and slide it onto the roof through a more horizontal opening rather than down a narrow staircase. Realistically, though, if one had to move a body, you’d probably wait and place it in the coffin on the first floor.
Witch windows are also known as Vermont windows or lazy windows, though as any DIYer will tell you, building an addition to one's house is hardly a task for the idle.
Witch Windows: Vermont's Spooky-Ish Architectural Anomaly
Matt Hickman is an associate editor at The Architect’s Newspaper. His writing has been featured in Curbed, Apartment Therapy, URBAN-X, and more.
Updated October 24, 2019A common feature of older farmhouses in certain parts of Vermont, the true purpose of so-called witch windows is somewhat of a mystery. (Photo: Larry Lamsa [CC BY 2.0]/Flickr)
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The vernacular architecture of Vermont, the erstwhile independent country-turned-14th state with one area code and nary a roadside billboard, is a study in rural New England self-sufficiency: sturdy, no-nonsense and demonstrating a strong reliance on familiar, locally available materials.
We're going to make it through another harsh winter and we're going to look damn photogenic while doing so, Vermont's farmhouses, covered bridges and picturesque white-painted churches all seem to scream from along winding country roads. It's truly something straight out of architectural central casting.
Vermont, particularly central Vermont and the Northeast Kingdom, is also home to a curious example of folk architecture that's rarely found elsewhere in New England. And it's one that comes up a lot around Halloween.
Meet the witch window, a Green Mountain State-exclusive phenomenon rooted in both superstition and cold climate practicality — it really depends on who you ask and when.
Witch windows — sometimes referred to as "Vermont windows" during times of the year when pointy black hats and facial boils are less in vogue — are hard to miss: They're full-sized and usually double-hung windows installed on the gable-end of the upper floors of older Vermont homes at a 45 degree angle. Translation: The windows are positioned sideways, running parallel to the slope of a home's rooflines.
For the superstitious, these diagonally oriented second-floor windows function as a practical home security measure — witch-proofing, if you will.
Looks weird, right? To many Vermonters, diagonal windows are a common feature of older homes. They're believed to keep both witches and winter drafts at bay. (Photo: Piledhigheranddeeper [CC BY-SA 3.0]/Wikimedia Commons)
You see, it's incredibly cumbersome for broomstick-mounting enchantresses to make direct approaches and landings through a sideways window. Just as any self-respecting witch wouldn't attempt to brew a potion sans newt's eye, attempting to gain entry through a titled window while airborne just doesn't happen. Ever.
"It was thought that a witch could not fly at an angle on its broomstick and she could only fly straight up on her broomstick, so if you angled a window she couldn't fly into a window," architectural historian Britta Tonn recently explained to Burlington-based WCAX News. Referring to witch windows as an "example of regionalism and regional architecture," Tonn goes on to make a very good — if not blatantly obvious — point: "If people were worried about witches coming in through their house, they would have done every window angled, likely not just the one or the two."
It's all very Sarah Winchester meets Normal Rockwell, really.
Whether or not spooky folklore-rich Vermont has historically been home to a disproportionately large number of broom-reliant witchcraft practitioners is largely irrelevant: It's just a funny name for a funny-looking architectural feature.
And as it turns out, "witch" isn't the only Halloween-appropriate descriptor used when referring to these peculiar slanted windows. In Vermont parlance, some natives opt to call them "coffin windows."
As Kathryn Eddy wrote for the Barre Montpelier Times Argus, the coffin backstory is rather hazy, although it likely has to do with the window's rectangular shape. However, some folks claim that the windows were purpose-installed so that 19th-century undertakers could hoist coffins outside and slide them down the roof as an alternative to carrying them down a narrow or twisty interior staircase. How a coffin might wind up on the second story of a home to begin with is anyone's guess, though.
Just like vampires need to be formally invited inside, superstition dictates that broom-straddling witches can't enter a home through a window unless it's vertically positioned. (Photo: Piledhigheranddeeper [CC BY-SA 4.0]/Wikimedia Commons)
Alas, the decidedly more realistic supposed reasons (everyone seems to have a different answer) for Vermont's wealth of wonky windows has little to do with witch deterrence and coffin transport logistics.
. the windows were often placed at the point where an outbuilding or addition was constructed. With the loss of wall and window space, sometimes the only space for an upper-floor window required that it be built at an angle. It allowed for light and ventilation where there would otherwise be none.
The sideways window was generally the window that had to be sacrificed from the old wall and simply reused. Add it to the extensive list of reasons why Vermonters deserve their practical reputation and were going ‘green' — recycling and repurposing — long before it was the trend to do so.
This makes sense for the most part but it still doesn't truly explain why witch windows are something only seen in older buildings in Vermont and nowhere else.
Tonn's theory is very much along the same lines — witch windows are simply the "result of good old fashion Yankee ingenuity and resourcefulness, instead of designing new windows to fit into that space; just rotate an already made one 45 degrees."
Others believe that witch windows functioned as vents of sorts, giving rising hot air a place to escape during not-all-that-brutal Vermont summers. Just crack open your weird sideways window on the second floor and, ahhh, relief.
Dormer windows are relatively rare in older Vermont homes. This home, likely a new build, has both dormer windows and a witch window for a bit of added folk architecture cred. (Photo: piledhigheranddeeper [CC BY-SA 3.0]/Wikimedia Commons)
A commenter on WCAX supports this ventilation-centric hypothesis:
It was nice in summer because all the heat from daily cooking or just the heat of the day would rise from the 1st to the second floor venting much of the heat out through that window. Most of the old farm houses had steep pitched roofs which means the upstairs had slanted walls going half way down the walls usually leaving only one wall available for a widow. The stairwell to the 2nd floor was open which meant the little side window provided cross ventilation for the 2nd floor for the heat to escape. That's what my uncle told me.
As for those very-much-all-that-brutal Vermont winters, witch windows were thought to be installed back in the day as a low-cost, no-frills alternative to dormer windows, which are prone to snow and ice accumulation and can be a major source of heat loss during the colder months.
Plus, if you think about it, a tucked away attic-level dormer window is the perfect place for your typical broom-riding hag to gain entry during the middle of the night while the rest of the house sleeps.
The Witch-Proof Windows of Vermont
Drive around enough of Vermont’s picturesque streets, and you’ll become puzzled over an architectural anomaly that even the locals can’t explain. Or, maybe it’s just that the explanation is a little too eerie for comfort. You see, the anomaly in question is called a “witch window…”
Witch windows are cockeyed windows that have been a staple of Vermont’s traditional farmhouse aesthetic ever since the 19th century. “It’s the crooked window tucked up under the eaves in the gable end — and it’s just tucked in there at a crazy angle,” explained State Architectural Historian Devin Colman to VPR Radio in 2017. The local lore is that this slant makes it difficult for witches to fly in on their broomsticks.
Being on the East Coast certainly comes with its fair share of witchy baggage, with the culprit famously being the Salem Witch Trials of 1692-1693. “ For more than a century, tourists have been buying witch souvenirs and visiting witch houses,” explained a representative from the New England Historical Society, “In 1890, a Salem jeweler named Daniel Low [even] began selling souvenir sterling “Witch” spoons to tourists.”
Vermont actually only had one witch trial, in the little town of Pownal. The victim was woman they called “the widow Krieger,” who was charged with the “possessing extraordinary powers.” She was thrown into the icy winter waters in a test to see if she’d sink or float, with the latter meaning she were possessed by black magic. Luckily, she began sinking and was rescued.
So what’s the deal with the witchy windows? Seeing as they started popping up centuries later, the likelihood of their being a defence against broom riding sorceresses isn’t high. “ They are very agile,” an actual Wiccan in Vermont told Urbo magazine in 2017, “I don’t think you could stop a witch from going through a slanted window unless they were overweight like me.” Anyone whose watched those Quidditch scenes in Harry Potter, she adds, would agree.
ADVERTISEMENT“You’ll also hear them referred to as coffin windows,” explains the Historical Society rep, “The idea being that it’s difficult to maneuver a coffin with a body from the second floor down to the first floor in these narrow staircases, so slide it out through the window and down the roof.” Then again, she says, that “does not seem any easier.” At the end of the day, every conclusion drawn about the curious windows ends with a question mark. Why on earth create a completely lopsided, and by all means impractical, window?
Plenty of cultures have created architectural styles that are supposed to fend off of evil spirits. What else did you think those pointy roofs on Chinese temples are for? Or the fact that in the Philippines, basements are traditionally seen as a breeding ground for evil spirits (if you want to stay safe, you have to have an exit to that basement that descends even lower).
Maybe the legend isn’t so far-fetched after all. For now, we’ll let you draw your own conclusions about the origins of the windows. Personally, until we find the root of this fable’s strange and tangled storyline, we know we’d sleep a little sounder with one in a Vermont farmhouse…
By Mary Frances Knapp, our Californian in Paris & beatnik at heart.
What is a Witch Window?
If you’ve ever visited New England, or more specifically Vermont, you may have seen a unique piece of local architecture called a witch window. The witch window, sometimes called a slew of different names like coffin window, lazy window, or Vermont window is something you’ll only find in this part of the country.
There are a lot of contenders for why this piece of historical architecture exists and why the multitude of names. I’ll list the top reasons below and just like my post “Why Does My Old House Have Two Front Doors?” I’ll let you decide what the right answer is.
The origins of the term "witch window" are unclear, but there are a few theories. One theory suggests that the slanted window got its name because it was used to prevent witches from flying into the house. According to this belief, witches were unable to fly through the angled window, thus protecting the occupants from any potential harm.
What is a Witch Window?
The witch window is a window usually installed at a 45 degree angle in the gable wall on the second story of a farmhouse. Typically a double-hung window, this unique installation fits in a tough area for window that allows light and fresh air into the second story where there usually would not be any.
This angled installation usually follows the roofline above a first story addition. It creates some challenging flashing issues as well as makes the siding installation difficult to cut as well due to multiple angles it creates.
Another theory suggests that the name comes from a misinterpretation of the term "which window." In older times, a witch window was often bought "secondhand" from previous buildings, so when asking which window was desired, the term "which window" was used, eventually morphing into "witch window." Despite its magical connotations, the witch window is purely functional. Its slanted position helps to maximize natural light and improve ventilation. Additionally, the angle allows for easier installation and maintenance, as well as providing additional space for furniture or decorations inside the house. In modern times, the witch window has become a charming architectural feature that adds character to historic homes. Many homeowners choose to preserve and showcase these windows as a nod to the region's architectural heritage. Over time, the witch window has become a unique symbol of New England's rich history and folklore. In conclusion, the New England witch window is a slanted or diagonal window found in older homes in the region. While its name may suggest magical properties, the witch window is simply a practical solution to architectural challenges. Its angle maximizes natural light and ventilation while adding character to historic homes..
Reviews for "New England Witch Windows: Tales of Superstition and Fear"
1. John - 2 stars: I found "New England Witch Window" to be quite disappointing. The storyline lacked depth and was predictable from the beginning. The characters seemed to lack development and I found it hard to connect with any of them. The pacing was slow and I often found myself losing interest. Overall, I was hoping for more from this book, but unfortunately, it fell short for me.
2. Sarah - 1 star: I cannot express how much I disliked "New England Witch Window." The writing style was pretentious and overly flowery, making it difficult to follow along. The plot was convoluted and made little sense, with random events thrown in without any real purpose. The characters were one-dimensional and unrelatable. I found myself struggling to finish this book and would not recommend it to anyone.
3. Mark - 2 stars: I had high hopes for "New England Witch Window," but it simply did not live up to my expectations. The story felt disjointed and the transitions between scenes were confusing. The author introduced too many unnecessary subplots that added nothing to the overall narrative. I had a hard time caring about the characters, as they lacked depth and were forgettable. The ending was unsatisfying and left me feeling underwhelmed. I wouldn't recommend this book to others looking for a captivating read.
4. Emily - 2 stars: "New England Witch Window" was a letdown for me. The descriptions of the setting were overly detailed, bogging down the pacing of the story. The plot was predictable and lacked any real surprises. The dialogue felt forced and unnatural, making it difficult to connect with the characters. Overall, I found this book to be a struggle to get through and would not recommend it to others who are seeking a captivating and engaging read.