Third time's the charm

The cathedral at Llandaff was begun exactly 900 years ago. In the first of two articles, John Goodall looks at the history of this outstanding building before

- John Goodall

AT about 6.30pm on January 2, 1941, air-raid sirens heralded the first major bombing raid on Cardiff during the Second World War. It was a cold night lit by a brilliant moon with snow on the ground. On the outskirts of the city, in Llandaff, the dean and verger of the cathedral hurried to take up their posts in the church. Unable to find his tin hat, the dean put a colander on his head. During the attack, a landmine suspended from a parachute—clearly visible to several onlookers—drifted down and snagged on the cathedral spire. It then fell into the graveyard on the south side of the nave and exploded with tremendous force.

Windows were blown out, much of the nave roof was torn off and many of the internal furnishings were smashed. Gravestones were flung into the air and rained down on surrounding houses. Buried beneath the debris, dean and verger were lucky to escape alive.

Next morning, the full scale of the cathedral’s devastation became apparent. Some wept at the sight. As the clear-up began, the snagged parachute was removed from the destabilised spire—a fragment of it still survives in the cathedral archive.

It’s impossible to understand Llandaff Cathedral today without appreciating the devastation it suffered in the 1940s. The major programme of restoration launched thereafter, constituted no less than the third reimagining of this remarkable building since the Reformation.