Invasion

As if to mark the invisible boundary that had been crossed, a plume of water shot up—and another, and more as the ball skipped towards them. It was from the heavy guns on the dark heights of the iconic headland, and the mass of sails quickly converged on its deep-water flanks—it was now all but over.

Held off by the formidable ring of iron, the flying squadron stayed out of range but kept with the armada as it rounded the cape and, with the last of the tide, passed into the safety of the harbours of Ambleteuse and Wimereux, their goal of Boulogne just six miles further on.

It was not yet noon on a beautiful early-summer's day: from first to last the action had taken just a few hours, but now it was time to leave.