The brigade was afterwards detached as part of the second division of the army, commanded by Lieutenant-General Hill, which covered the operations of the grand army under Wellington against the fortresses of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz. This division, pursuing the enemy towards Merida, overtook and surprised the bronzed veterans of the fifth French corps, under General Gerard, when about to decamp from Arroyo del Molinos. The honour of this feat of arms is mainly due to the Seventy-first and Ninety-second Highlanders, who, during the raging of a fearful tempest, and screened by a thick mist, charged into the village. In the confusion the loss of the enemy was immense; of 3000 only 600 escaped to tell the tale of the catastrophe. It is said the enemy was first made aware of his danger by the scream of the bagpipes as they appropriately played— “Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye waukin’ yet?” Driven out at the point of the bayonet, the French were utterly broken and dispersed. Few events reflect greater credit upon the Gordon Highlanders than this exploit. It was the business of Lieut.-Gen. Hill so to engage the attention of Marshal Soult, that he should be prevented assisting the army of Marshal Marmont, opposed to Wellington. By the capture of Forts Napoleon and Ragusa at “Almaraz,” gallantly accomplished by the brigade, the separation of the two Marshals was effected, and each forced to follow his own line of retreat, at every step widening the breach. The battle of Salamanca having cleared the way, the British advanced to Madrid; and, whilst Wellington proceeded against Burgos, Lord Hill occupied the capital. Tho concentration of the French armies for the relief of Burgos occasioned the abandonment of that enterprise, and, for the last time, compelled our army to retire towards Portugal, evacuating Madrid. “From the 27th October to the 20th November, we were exposed,” says Lieut.-Col. Cameron, “to greater hardships than I thought the human frame could bear. In most inclement weather, with the canopy of heaven for our covering, wet, cold, and hungry, we were generally marching day and night. Fifteen poor fellows of the Ninety-second fell down, and were lost. My heart bled for them.”