Just before reaching Dundee he was joined by a body of cavalry under two officers, who were destined to play a prominent part in history. The horse were commanded by Colonel Alured, a daring cavalry leader with red-hot political opinions of an advanced socialistic type, an Anabaptist of the Anabaptists. At the head of the dragoons rode a little fiery man, whom they all adored. It was the famous Colonel Morgan, a soldier of fortune after Monk's own heart, who knew nothing of politics and everything of his profession. They had probably served together the greater part of their lives, and were now at any rate fast friends with unbounded mutual admiration. There was no one to whom Monk would rather commit a piece of difficult work than this little dragoon, and he had arrived in the nick of time. For Monk, as we have seen, with his advanced ideas of the military art, the Intelligence Department was his chiefest care. "The eyes of an army," to use his own expression, he cherished as his own. Spies as usual had been busy, and now he learned that on his approach the Government had retired to the Highlands and was sitting at Alyth, fourteen miles away, at the edge of the hills, where a force was daily expected to assemble for the relief of Dundee. Monk at once determined on a surprise so daring that it savours more of romance than the deliberate expedient of a wary strategist. Morgan was sent for, and he and Alured were told to take their men, disguised as far as possible and mixed with Scotch deserters, and attend the enemy's rendezvous. Late on the night of the 27th they marched, and unmolested reached Alyth in the first hours of the morning. To avoid suspicion they boldly marched to the farther side of the town, and there quietly halted as though they were a party of the expected troops. No one interfered, and about three o'clock, after a short rest, when sleep was the deepest, they suddenly broke into the astonished town. Hardly a blow was struck. Old Leslie, the commander-in-chief, was taken in his bed, and the rest of the Government shared his fate; and as Monk went forth to direct his siege-works Alured and Morgan rode into camp with three hundred noblemen, lairds, and ministers prisoners in their train. At one stroke Scotland was as it were beheaded. It was a bloodless victory, as complete almost as the "crowning mercy" at Worcester, now on the eve of being fought. "Truly," wrote Monk in his despatch to Cromwell, "it is a very great mercy which the Lord of Hosts hath been pleased to bestow upon us, observing the time and season. This is the Lord's work, and therefore He alone ought to have the praise." But he concludes by asking for Morgan's promotion. That he could so far have departed from his ordinary style only shows us how great had been the influence of Cromwell's coercive personality upon him.