The agony of mind which resulted from this disaster bore with crushing weight upon Wolfe’s enfeebled frame, and for weeks he lay fevered and helpless. During his convalescence he invited his officers to meet for consultation in regard to the most hopeful method of attack. One of the officers suggested, and the others recommended, a scheme full of danger, but with possibilities of decisive success. It was proposed that the army should be placed upon the high ground to the westward of the upper town and receive there the battle which the French would be forced to offer. The assailants were largely outnumbered by the garrison; escape was impossible, and defeat involved ruin. But Wolfe did not fear that the French could inflict defeat on the army which he led. The enterprise had an irresistible attraction to his daring mind. He trusted his soldiers, and he determined to stake the fortune of the campaign upon their power to hold the position to which he would conduct them. The Heights of Abraham stretch westward for three miles from the defences of the upper town, and form a portion of a lofty table-land which extends to a distance from the city of nine miles. They are from two to three hundred feet above the level of the river. Their river-side is well-nigh perpendicular and wholly inaccessible, save where a narrow footpath leads to the summit. It was by this path--on which two men could not walk abreast--that Wolfe intended to approach the enemy. The French had a few men guarding the upper end of the path; but the guard was a weak one, for they apprehended no attack here. Scarcely ever before had an army advanced to battle by a track so difficult. [Sidenote: Sept. 12, 1759 A.D.] The troops were all received on board the ships, which sailed for a few miles up stream. During the night the men re-embarked in a flotilla of boats and dropped down with the receding tide. They were instructed to be silent. No sound of oar was heard, or of voice, excepting that of Wolfe, who in a low tone repeated to his officers the touching, and in his own case prophetic, verses of Gray’s “Elegy in a Country Churchyard.” Quickly the landing-place was reached, and the men stepped silently on shore. One by one they climbed the narrow woodland path. As they neared the summit the guard, in panic, fired their muskets down the cliff and fled. The ships had now dropped down the river, and the boats plied incessantly between them and the landing-place. All night long the landing proceeded. The first rays of the morning sun shone upon an army of nearly five thousand veteran British soldiers solidly arrayed upon the Heights of Abraham, eager for battle and confident of victory. Wolfe marched them forward till his front was within a mile of the city, and there he waited the attack of the French.