While driving through New England to marvel at the vibrant fall foliage, my wife and I couldn’t help but notice something peculiar about the old farmhouses dotting the Vermont countryside. Many had these odd, full-size windows tilted at a 45-degree angle. What were they? When did they become a staple in Vermont homes, and why the strange tilt? These are witch windows, a quirky northeastern architectural feature that sounds like a punchline from an old vaudeville act: “What are those weird windows called?” “Witch windows.” “Those windows, right there!” But these apertures have a fascinating history worth exploring.
Witch windows are a Vermont original, though you might spot them elsewhere in New England. Often called Vermont windows, they’re most common in the Green Mountain State. They popped up in the 19th century, back when Vermont was a patchwork of remote farming communities. Even now, Vermont feels like a step back in time, with its quiet towns and small cities—Burlington, the largest, has just 43,000 residents, and Montpelier, the state capital with under 8,000 people, is famously the only U.S. capital without a McDonald’s. For the farmers who worked this rugged land, reusing everything was a way of life, long before “recycle” was a buzzword. Windows, with their pricey glass and hardware, were no exception. These angled openings stand as a monument to Yankee resourcefulness.
Fun aside, these windows carry a bit of local legend. Ever wonder what stories old houses tell? In New England, folklore claims these slanted windows were designed to keep witches at bay. New England’s history with witches isn’t exactly cozy, stretching back to the days when Pilgrims and Puritans set foot here, clashing with anything they deemed unholy. So, why name a window after witches? It’s not to invite them in. The tale goes that witches, zooming around on broomsticks, can’t navigate a 45-degree tilt. The angled design supposedly stops them from flying inside. (Never mind that witches, if they were real, might notice the perfectly vertical windows elsewhere in the house.) It’s a charming story, but more fairy tale than fact.
Another nickname for these windows is “coffin window.” The idea here is that if someone passed away on the second floor, sliding a coffin out a slanted window would be easier than maneuvering it down a narrow staircase and out the front door. Sounds plausible, right? But think it through. Where does the coffin go after it’s tossed out? Sliding it down a porch roof wouldn’t exactly keep it in one piece. And why haul a coffin upstairs to begin with when you could just carry the body down? This grim theory doesn’t hold up under scrutiny.
Here’s where it gets practical—because Vermont farmers weren’t ones for nonsense. The real reason for witch windows is far less spooky. These farmers were a no-waste bunch, and building or expanding a home 200 years ago meant making do with what you had. Standard-sized windows were easier to come by than custom ones, especially when fitting them into tight spaces between rooflines. Tilting them at an angle made them fit just right. Often, these windows were salvaged from other buildings, a testament to the thrifty mindset of the time. Plus, in northern states like Vermont, daylight was precious, especially before electricity lit up homes. Witch windows maximized light in spots where a regular window wouldn’t do. They’re less about witches or coffins and more about making the most of what you’ve got.
Ever notice how old homes seem to have a personality? Witch windows add to that charm, but they also hint at the challenges of rural life back then. For instance, installing these windows wasn’t just about light or thrift—it was about working with the house’s existing structure. Many Vermont farmhouses had additions tacked on as families grew or needs changed, and squeezing a window into a gable end often meant dealing with sloped roofs. A tilted window was a clever workaround, blending function with necessity. Some historians even suggest these windows helped with ventilation in stuffy attics, a small but practical bonus for homes without modern HVAC.
Have you ever seen a witch window in person, or lived in a home that had one? Do you have any theories of your own that we haven’t discussed here? Chime in on our Facebook page and share your experience!