In almost all buildings the roof is a prominent feature. In Evesham
the old roofs are all made of oolite "slats," and as these are split
irregularly, we have tiles of various sizes and slightly varying in
shape. In roofing the plan was to place all the large tiles below, and
to decrease the size gradually towards the ridge, the result being
most pleasing to the eye. Besides the interest given by irregularity,
the delicate silver grey of the oolite roofs, varied with tints of
moss and lichen added by time, produces an effect unsurpassed by any
other form of roof covering. Even the clay tiles, introduced at a
later time, take their place when mellowed by sun and rain; and these
throw into unpleasant relief the modern glazed Staffordshire ware
which resists all softening influences. The Welsh slates, too, before
perfect mechanical regularity was obtained, made a pretty roofing,
though they, of course, have no local interest here.

No one would wish to dwell long on the opposite side of the contrast.
We have already traced the beginning of the decline of domestic
architecture, and the present condition follows as a natural
development. In recent years the town has spread in every direction
that is possible. In the centre is the Evesham of the past, the
Evesham our forefathers built and our fathers knew. But it is
encircled by streets and houses which are not the product of the vale,
nor are they marked by any individual character. Rows upon rows of
dwellings, symmetrical, mechanical, and monotonous, can give no
pleasure to the eye, nor can the mind read in them any story save the
commercial enterprise of a commercial age.

No one can note these differences without sometimes asking the cause
of this lamentable degradation in the character of the buildings which
compose our modern towns. They are many and complex, and too deeply