The following lines were written on November 28th 1872,
to a brother in America,

The twenty fifth November eighteen hundred and seventy two,
Was a day on which a gale of wind blew,
From the south-south west, so fierce and strong
That it swept the cloud and wave along,
And a very large ship was seen, they say,
Coming on more and more into the bay,
There she was struggling to keep from the shore,
But still she was nearing it more and more,
At last she was driven in just after 'twas dark,
About half a mile this side of the Ark,
In the break of the sea she bumped on the ground,
So hard that it shook the topmasts down,
She was a passenger ship to Australia bound,
With general cargo from London Town,
Her name the "Royal Adelaide" so I am told,
And she was not more than eight years old,
A clipper built ship, and the people all say,
That she had no business to be in the Bay,
But there she now lay, a sight to behold
With sixty seven souls on board all told,
Thirty five passengers, the rest were the crew,
Which numbered exactly thirty and two
All anxious to get to the land and be saved,
All hoping to escape a watery grave,
Then by a line the first mate tried to cross
The gulf between land and the ship, and was lost,
Then the life apparatus was brought into action
And worked for a while with great satisfaction,
Until some mishap, but what I can't give,
Which caused two or three to be drowned in the wave,
In saving the lives from the "Royal Adelaide",
Then all went well until sixty were saved,
Now when the sixty were safe on the shore
There were left on board only three more,
When a mighty wave came with a fearful bound,
And the rope was broke and they were drowned,
Then the next big wave broke the ship in two,
And the following wave brought the cargo to view,
Then all her rich treasure was a wreck on the shore,
Never to be gathered together anymore,
But barrels of rum, and brandy and gin,
Were soon thrown up by the waves and the wind,
And bales of beautiful cloth and silk,
And boxes of gloves, made of kid, white as milk,
And boots without number, of all sorts and sizes,
And hats by the thousands, of all shapes and prizes,
And ready made cloth of every description,
But of half what was there you will have no conception,
There were boxes of candles, and sweet scented soap,
And cotton by cart-loads, was seen thrown up,
And knives and forks, and all sorts of cans
And high dried herring and fine bacon hams,
And bottles of wine, pale ale and stout,
And casks of vinegar rolling about,
And chests of tea, coffee and figs,
Cocks and hens and live and dead pigs,
While ducks and geese formed part of the losses,
And gentlemen's dogs and two fine horses,
Yes these things with rope and broken timber,
Formed a sight and a scene many long will remember,
Now when this took place, there were gathered around,
People from Portland, from Wyke and from town,
Which formed a crowd of hundreds or more,
Then thousands at one time stood on the shore,
All anxious to save their own brother man,
All willing and lending a good helping hand,
High praise be to those who wet every thread,
Now when all the lives were safe on the shore
The majority returned to their homes once more,
Page 72
But many instead of going honestly back,
Were tempted to steal a part of the wreck,
So they took something, and Ned, Tom and Harry,
Loaded themselves with what they could carry,
But they were soon stopped by the coastguard police,
And had to the station mid shame and disgrace,
But the thieves were so many I am sorry to learn,
They were forced to have soldiers down from the Verne,
To prevent wreckers from carrying away,
The wreck of the "Royal Adelaide" for a prey,
But while some were plundering and carrying things home,
Others were busy in drinking the rum,
While some with pebbles soon knocked the heads in,
Of the big brandy tubs and the casks of gin,
For they felt themselves cold and thought it no harm,
To have a good drink to keep themselves warm,
But alas! Poor souls, they drank rather too deep,
Of the brandy and rum then soon fell asleep,
In the wind and the rain to lie all night,
In a drunken state and an awful plight,
But many of them I am happy to say,
By their sober friends were soon taken away,
And sent for the doctor, who very soon came,
And saved them dying a death of shame,
But alas! Alas! When daylight returned,
How many there were for the drunken dead mourned,
For several were found quite dead on the beach,
Who died through the drink so placed in their reach,
Ah, they drank to much of the burning hot gin,
Then they lay down to die in the rain and the wind,
Now four were the exact number I think,
Which yielded up life to their demon drink,
And one was a lad of fifteen years,
Which cost his parents a flood of tears,
For they loved him much and made it a rule,
To send their son to some Sabbath school,
But now he is gone and his parents grieve,
To know their son fills a drunkards grave,
But now I must bring these lines to an end,
And pray that God will never more send,
A ship on shore on the rough Chesil Beach,
But hope they may some Roads reach,
For it makes my blood run cold when I think,
Of so many deaths by the wreck and the drink.