Still Dundee did not know the extent of the disaster. The garrison could not believe that all hope of relief was at an end, and contemptuously refused Monk's summons. On the third day the batteries opened. All through the last night of August they thundered, and in the morning there was a practicable breach. Monk knew well the garrison was hopelessly demoralised and would be an easy prey, yet he strove to save bloodshed. Twice again he offered them quarter, and twice again they refused. Then at last he gave the word for an assault. The infantry were very weak from sickness, and the storming parties were strengthened by dismounted troopers and a naval brigade. These elements were not likely to decrease the heat of the fight, and added to this the town was known to contain property of immense value. With incredible fury the breach was carried in one rush. The supports of horse were through almost as soon as the footmen, and a desperate struggle ensued in the streets. In a few minutes it was over and the stormers rushed on wildly through the town hacking down everything in their way. A number of women, and even some children who were in the streets, were borne down in the rush. Soon all that resisted were a party who with the governor had taken refuge in a tower. Preparations were being made to smoke them out, when they asked and received quarter. Unhappily, as the governor was being taken before Monk he was pistolled by a fanatic officer, an outrage which the general seems to have felt as a blot on his own untarnished reputation as a soldier. Resistance was now at an end, but Monk seems to have thought it his duty to give over the town to two days' pillage as a chastisement for its obstinate refusal of quarter. The remaining garrisons surrendered on terms in rapid succession, and the Highland strongholds were one after another reduced by his officers. He himself took no active part in the operations. The iron constitution on which he drew so recklessly during his long campaigns at length gave way, and a few days after the surrender he was laid up in Dundee with a fever. By January he had sufficiently shaken it off to be able to meet the new Scotch commissioners who had arrived at Dalkeith from London to negotiate the Union, but in February he was compelled to go south for the benefit of his health. It is worthy of note that he started on the journey in the same coach with Lambert, who was also on the commission, but before Berwick was passed they agreed to separate, ostensibly because Monk was too ill to travel fast enough for his rival.