page_title: Loveday, 1458
section_title: The Loveday
hierarchical_section_title: Loveday, 1458 / The Loveday
caption_attribution_description: English: Richard Neville, 5th Earl of Salisbury KG PC (c. 1400 – 31 December 1460) who married Alice Montagu, daughter and only legitimate child of Thomas Montagu, 4th Earl of Salisbury. Unusually, he gives place of honour to the arms of his wife on his surcoat, placing them on the dexter half, impaling his own arms of Neville. The full image shows his wife at right.
context_page_description: The Loveday of 1458 was a ritualistic reconciliation between warring factions of the English nobility that took place at St Paul's Cathedral on 25 March 1458. Following the outbreak of the Wars of the Roses in 1455, it was the culmination of lengthy negotiations initiated by King Henry VI to resolve the lords' rivalries. English politics had become increasingly factional during his reign, and was exacerbated in 1453 when he became catatonic. This effectively left the government leaderless, and eventually the King's cousin, and at the time heir to the throne, Richard, Duke of York, was appointed Protector during the King's illness. Alongside York were his allies from the politically and militarily powerful Neville family, led by Richard, Earl of Salisbury, and his eldest son, Richard, Earl of Warwick. When the King returned to health a year later, the protectorship ended but partisanship within the government did not.
  Supporters of King Henry and his Queen, Margaret of Anjou, have been loosely called "Lancastrians", the King being head of the House of Lancaster, while the duke and his party are considered "Yorkists", after his title of Duke of York.
context_section_description: The pact was announced on 25 March, or Lady Day (the Feast of the Annunciation of the Virgin). Henry—"thanking God for their having reaching accord"—joined his wife and nobles on a celebratory procession from Westminster to London. Leading the parade were Somerset and Salisbury—36 years older than the duke—followed by Exeter with Warwick, then "the King alone, wearing his crown and royal robes" between them all. Finally came York and Queen Margaret. All parties held hands: a later chronicle described how "one of the one faction, and another of the other sect, and behind the King, the Duke of Yorke led the Queene with great familiaritie to all mens sighte". Although no contemporary records now survive to provide the physical details of the Loveday procession itself, scholars are aware of the general nature of medieval urban processions. The scholar Kathleen Ashley has highlighted how they presented what she has called a "fusion of sensory experiences, or synaesthesia" for both the participants and observers, who would often amount to as many people as could physically attend, on account of the holiday atmosphere that accompanied them.
  Historians have noted multiple interpretations of the symbolism favoured by Henry. It was "a symbolic series of gestures", says John Sadler, perhaps a show of "friendly and modest intimacies" suggests Patricia Ingham. Or it may have been mere rhetoric, bordering on a charade, suggests Pollard. At the time, physical intimacy was an essential element of concord and the intention was clearly to demonstrate both their agreement and their willingness to agree. The Queen holding York's hand (rather than him holding Somerset's), says Watts, was an acknowledgement of her close involvement in the affairs of central government and her higher political profile in the post-St Albans body politic. The Loveday was a combination, says Griffiths, of "elaborate ceremonial, royal prayer and example, monetary payments and the holding of hands...[between] bitter enemies". The assembled lords were taking no more chances now than they had when they first arrived in London: Salisbury, for example, attended the concomitant religious ceremony at St Paul's with his retinue of 400 men, which included 80 knights and esquires, waiting in the churchyard. It may have been called a Loveday, comments Sadler, yet "the title is ironic, as there was little of love in the air". The closing event was the presentation of a new translation of the contemporary verse paraphrase, Knyghthode and Bataile to the King. This was a recent adaption of De re militari, and celebrates the martial exploits of the noble class in a classic chivalric form. 
  The immediate aftermath of the Loveday was positive, not least for the Nevilles, as the King granted Egremont permission to go on a pilgrimage in June 1458. From the government's perspective, this was an opportunity to physically remove one of the parties to a dispute. Pollard Casts some doubt on whether Egremont actually wanted to go on pilgrimage, arguing that "no doubt he had been persuaded" to do so, as previous attempts to quieten him in the north—through French service in 1453 and imprisonment in 1456—had failed. The King and his council seem to have also concluded by now that the Percies and the Nevilles' feud in the north was the primary cause of St Albans, and their treatment of Egremont reflected that. If this was the case, notes Watts, such a policy made the mistake of ignoring the enmity between other parties, for instance, York and Somerset.
  The King went on his own pilgrimage to St Albans at Easter the same year. This, says Griffiths, "demonstrated that the site of the battle in which he had been wounded and his ministers slain no longer stirred fearful memories in his mind". The appearance of amity was maintained publicly "with a royal round of jousts, feasting, and other entertainments until May" that year. These festivities took place both at the Tower of London and at the Queen's Palace at Greenwich, further emphasising her involvement in the proceedings.
caption: Richard Neville, Earl of Salisbury; York's closest political ally and head of the powerful northern Neville family.
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