At three P.M. the firing had begun to slacken, and ship after ship of the enemy was striking. At a quarter past two the _Algeziras_ struck to the _Tonnant_, and fifteen minutes afterwards the _San Juan_--the _Tonnant_ was fighting both ships--also hailed that she surrendered. Lieutenant Clement was sent in the jolly-boat, with two hands, to take possession of the Spanish seventy-four, and the boat carrying the gallant three was struck by a shot and swamped. The sailors could swim, but not the lieutenant; the pair of tars succeeded in struggling back with their officer to the _Tonnant_; and as that ship had not another boat that would float, she had to see her prize drift off. The _Colossus_, in like manner, fought with the French _Swiftsure_ and the _Bahama_--each her own size--and captured them both! The _Redoutable_ had surrendered by this time, and a couple of midshipmen, with a dozen hands, had climbed from the _Victory's_ one remaining boat through the stern ports of the French ship. The _Bucentaure_, Villeneuve's flagship, had her fate practically sealed by the first tremendous broadside poured into her by the _Victory_. With fine courage, however, the French ship maintained a straggling fire until both the _Leviathan_ and the _Conqueror_, at a distance of less than thirty yards, were pouring a tempest of shot into her. The French flagship then struck, and was taken possession of by a tiny boat's crew from the _Conqueror_ consisting of three marines and two sailors. The marine officer coolly locked the powder magazine of the Frenchman, put the key in his pocket, left two of his men in charge of the surrendered _Bucentaure_, put Villeneuve and his two captains in his boat with his two marines and himself, and went off in search of the _Conqueror_. In the smoke and confusion, however, he could not find that ship, and so carried the captured French admiral to the _Mars_. Hercules Robinson has drawn a pen picture of the unfortunate French admiral as he came on board the British ship: "Villeneuve was a tallish, thin man, a very tranquil, placid, English-looking Frenchman; he wore a long-tailed uniform coat, high and flat collar, corduroy pantaloons of a greenish colour with stripes two inches wide, half-boots with sharp toes, and a watch-chain with long gold links. Majendie was a short, fat, jocund sailor, who found a cure for all ills in the Frenchman's philosophy, "Fortune de la guerre" (though this was the third time the goddess had brought him to England as a prisoner); and he used to tell our officers very tough stories of the 'Mysteries of Paris.'"