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 rooted in present-day commercialism for us even to hope for their removal.  Yet we may still turn to examples of individual effort throughout the country and find satisfaction.  Here and there are houses possessing some of the finest qualities which have gone towards making our ancient streets and cities; and here we have evidence that beautiful building is still possible if we will but have it.  It may be claimed that even the streets we build are historical as our old towns are historical; that they are the outcome of the age we live in.  And truly this is so; and for this very reason we must needs be patient if we cannot be hopeful.

But it is something to recognise the fact that we have in our old buildings and streets records of unquestionable veracity, full of character and meaning, and such as we are entirely unable, with all our boasted advantages, to rival or even imitate.  And more than this, we have in most of the work that has been left to us examples of craftsmanship, in every kind, which are invaluable as models of what we once could do, and may do, under favourable conditions, again.