Very little of the history of the Great Rebellion concerns Whitehall, at least until Oliver Cromwell assumes possession, and apes royalty in the old halls; but in Rymer’s _Fœdera_ we may observe that, from the beginning of the reign of James I., “Whitehall” gradually and more and more becomes the official designation of the palace. Charles naturally was not there during a long term of years. He was marching and counter-marching in the north, and so mismanaging all his affairs successively that, regarded as a game, the Civil War consisted of a series of alternate military and diplomatic defeats. The inevitable consequence was the utter ruin of the royal cause. In January, 1649 (then reckoned 1648), the King, a prisoner, was brought from Windsor Castle and lodged at St. James’s. On Saturday, the 20th, he walked, strongly guarded, across the park to Whitehall. He probably entered his old palace by the stairs near the tilt-yard, and traversed the passage which led to his former apartments. Here was a “bridge,” or floating pier on the water’s edge, and he was put into a boat and rowed up to Westminster, where he was placed in Sir Robert Cotton’s house. The King was then brought into Westminster Hall and allowed a seat. Bradshaw was president of the Court, and there were some eighty commissioners. The King attended the Court four times in all, sometimes going in a Sedan chair, sometimes, as we have seen, by boat. We need not detail the proceedings of Bradshaw and his assessors; but there is one thing which must be noted, namely, the dignity and tact of the King’s behaviour when brought up to receive sentence. Green, who had but little sympathy with him, observes, quoting Marvel, “Whatever had been the faults and follies of his life— “‘He nothing common did nor mean Upon that memorable scene.’” [Illustration: _Whitehall, from the River_. _From_ OGILVY’S _Map_, 1677.]