Classified Bride: The 20-Day Marriage of Mrs. Percy M. Drew
It began with a marriage solicitation and ended in a suicide. This is the true story of a young woman who went from newlywed to widow in a whirlwind odyssey across the Pacific.
Fairy tales are full of adventure and romance. Take Cinderella, for example. We all know the story… a handsome prince holds a royal ball with the hope of finding a bride. Cinderella answers his invitation without the blessing of her family. After arriving at the ball in disguise, she meets the prince, they fall in love, and live happily ever after.
That’s how Margaret Fortesque’s story should have ended, but the real world isn’t a fairy tale. Her story is one where two strangers decide to take a leap of faith, believe in love at first sight, and try to begin a new life together across the sea. However, by the end of their voyage from Sydney to San Francisco, the couple’s future takes a dramatic turn for the worst.
You may wonder how I stumbled across this story. I’ll tell you! Occasionally I get to play the role of biographer for my work — the Angel Island Immigration Station Foundation. Over the Station’s history (1910–1946), half a million immigrants landed on Angel Island. That’s 500,000 stories to be told. Artists, architects, writers, and even a princess had their first steps on U.S. soil there. From time to time I find a story that makes me pause. That’s what happened when I saw Margaret’s face on the front page of the San Francisco Call (dated April 26, 1913). The headline teased of a suicide and a young widow far from home. Consider me curious.
The story of the “Classified Bride” represents an unusual immigration tale, but I acknowledge that sight-unseen marriages isn’t without precedent. Angel Island saw many “picture brides” arrive at its shore from Japan and Korea in the early 20th century. Perhaps, a 27-year-old Percy M. Drew was inspired by these types of marriages when he arrived in Australia. Perhaps, it was an impulsive miscalculation. I suppose I should introduce him, so you can make that decision for yourself.
Who is Mr. Percy Drew?
On paper, Percy was the perfect man — a prince charming, perhaps. The Bathurst National Advocate on April 30, 1913 described him as:
…the true American type. Tall, lean, smartly dressed, and a persuasive way of guessing and calculating that would turn almost any girl’s head. When he spoke about his ranches in Connecticut, he just made a woman’s head spin round. He was a man with a personality and a hustle, and apparently he had money to burn.
Percy was the son of James W. Drew, a self-proclaimed cosmopolite living in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Reports state that James W. Drew was a wealthy man, retired shipping master, and well-known writer on the topic of civil engineering. Needless to say, Percy was born into privilege.
A trip to the land down under
It was Easter Monday (March 24, 1913) when Percy landed in Sydney. He arrived from Wellington, New Zealand aboard the S.S. Ulimaroa. The weather that day was described as “muggy and sultry.” It was the kind of weather that empowered women to wear their “light and summery frocks,” despite it being in the autumn months. Percy had 12 days to enjoy Australia before he would board the S.S. Ventura for San Francisco. This nearly two-week window gave the incorrigible Mr. Drew just enough time to see the sights, have a bit of fun, and stir up a little mischief.
And on the eighth day
Percy was content to fly under the radar for the first seven days he was in the country. On the eighth day (April 1, 1913), a classified ad appeared in the local newspaper. It read:
WANTED to marry Protestant, colonial girl, brunette, by young man (27), of good family, two first-class references, returning to the United States April 5. Please state age and answer in time for boat, enclosing photo and address.
P.M.D.
The response to his ad was considered substantial. The proposal was widely talked about in social circles. Within days the Sydney GPO said the number of applicants “filled a fair-sized mail bag.” Ladies from across the region took a chance of putting their foot in the slipper, for a lack of a better metaphor.
The “Cinderella” that catches Percy’s eye is a young, 5'3" brunette from Rays Bay (now called Botany Bay). Her name is Margaret, and Percy intends to make her his bride. He immediately rushes to the shipping office, throws some gold on the counter and exclaims,
I want to book a passage for my wife.
Tying the knot
It’s not difficult to imagine the giddiness Percy and Margaret must have felt. Two kids in their twenties finding love in a brief, impulsive moment. They are strangers joined together by fate, with a hopeful optimism for tomorrow. I almost see it unfolding like the movie Titanic with Percy feeling like the “king of the world” when he shows up with Margaret at the wharf where the S.S. Ventura is docked. It’s April 4, 1913, the day before their departure. A witness recalls,
Drew hustled down and inquired, “Say, does this ship carry a chaplain among its officers?” “Guess not,” was the reply. “Can you direct me to the nearest Protestant parson? I am a passenger by this ship, and I want to marry my wife and bring her with me.” He was told by a man on the wharf to go to the Registrar-General’s office.
And that was it. Before they left Australia, the Drews were happily married. Witnesses describe them as “all smiles” when the vessel cast off.
The mystery of Margaret
It was difficult to track down details about Margaret. The National Archives and Library of Congress proved to be good sources. Her alien file (A-file) is available at NARA San Bruno (12654/005–29). Ancestry.com has ship manifests and immigration records from her 1913 journey. Most importantly, I found numerous contemporaneous accounts published in U.S. newspapers — which proved to be my most valuable resource. From there, I was able to piece together a brief snapshot of who she was.
Depending on where you look, her name changes. Newspapers collectively named her “Mrs. Percy M. Drew,” formally known as “Margaret Fortesque.” When you look at travel records, you’ll find that she was aboard the S.S. Ventura under the name “Dorris Drew.” By the time she reached Angel Island, her immigrant file names her “Doria Drew.”
Did she travel under an alias? Was Dorris/Doria a nickname or first name? Did someone make a mistake? I can only tell you what I do know — and for the purpose of this story, I’ll continue to refer to Mrs. Drew as Margaret.
Margaret’s father’s name was Phil Fortesque (as documented in the ship’s log). Secondly, she was born 1889, making her 24 years old in 1913 (contrary to several newspapers describing her as a 17 year old). Next, she married Percy on a Friday and left on a Saturday without notifying her family or saying goodbye. Finally, their destination was Los Angeles, where Percy was purported to have family.
Skip the honeymoon
From what I found, it sounds like the newlywed phase of their relationship ended even before they left Sydney Harbor. After boarding, Mrs. Drew refused to associate with her husband. She was quoted as calling him “queer mentally” and didn’t speak to Percy again after boarding the Ventura. They even occupied separate cabins for the entirety of their trip.
Percy’s behavior slowly deteriorated. He was described as eccentric by both his wife and others. At one point Percy was “seized with the idea that one of the passengers was paying attention to his wife,” so he chased the man with a revolver until others were able to restrain him.
A rocky romance
Now, it’s not entirely fair to call it a romance. I don’t even know if Percy and Margaret had 24 hours of romance before things went sour. Their manner towards each other was described as “hostile.” Margaret told other passengers that she wanted to go back home, to which Percy replied,
I don’t care a hoot where she goes.
They had a brief stop in Honolulu on April 18, 1913 before continuing on towards San Francisco. To others, Percy had appeared to have money. It was documented that he was carrying $250 on his person (equivalent of $6,500 in 2020). He wore nice clothes, but as they arrived at the Golden Gate on April 25, 1913, he appeared on deck “wearing apparel that would have served as make up for a tramp. The clothes were worn and not very clean.”
After initial inspection, Immigration Special Officer John Ford pulled Percy and Margaret aside for investigation. This meant their next destination would be to Angel Island and not San Francisco. Word of their extremely odd relationship spread like fire among city reporters. Several newspapers began teasing a scandal as the Drews were preparing to transfer to the S.S. Angel Island. An article announcing their arrival says,
HE GOT A FORTUNE AND A “WANT AD” BRIDE.
Did Not Get What He Liked, and Stubbornly Refuses to Like What He Got
Ouch. Public sentiment had clearly taken a side in the Drews domestic conflict. After being notified that they would have to go to Angel Island, Percy disappeared. At the end of a long search, they found Percy in the baggage room. He made several attempts to get away again until a guard was detailed to keep and eye on him. It wouldn’t be long before Percy would be at the end of his rope… and his life.
Till death
Percy, Margaret, and 7 other immigrants boarded the S.S. Angel Island less than an hour after arriving. Percy was held pending an investigation of his mental condition. Margaret and the others were marked likely to be a public charge or LPC for short. At some point, Percy asked permission to get a drink of water.
He was found a few minutes later in convulsions, with a bottle that had contained potassium cyanide by his side. And just like that, Percy M. Drew was gone.
The apathetic widow
After a tumultuous marriage, I can’t help but wonder if Percy’s suicide was a relief to Margaret. There was a description of her immediately following his death.
His bride, on being told of the occurrence, is said to have remained unmoved and certainly has evidenced no interest as to her husband’s death.
The Oakland Tribune reported on the situation following Percy Drew’s death. His body was taken by a coroner. It was expected that Margaret would arrive to make arrangements, but that never happened. The Tribune said,
If the remains are not claimed and funds are not found, the city will have to take charge of the burial.
She was unwilling to give detailed information concerning her marriage and unable to prove that Percy was even an American citizen. Two days later, Percy’s parents sends a telegram from their Connecticut home with instructions to send his body back east for burial in the family plot.
On Angel Island
By now, the whole Cinderella framework I built up at the beginning of this story was broken — shattered into a million pieces and scattered across the sand at China Cove. If you haven’t guessed by now, there was no happily ever after.
I waited 6 1/2 months to fill in the blanks of Margaret’s story. I reached out to the National Archives for her file on March 11, 2020. Two days later, San Francisco entered a COVID-19 shelter-in-place order, creating a 198-day delay in receiving her information. By September 25th I was finally able to read the only page in her file that documented her time on Angel Island.
In the letter above, one piece of information seemed significant. Margaret (AKA Doris) wanted to land in America… for a time. However, Mrs. Drew was denied landing on May 5, 1913. While the transcript of her interview no longer exists, it was noted by immigration officials,
Mrs. Drew admitted to the board of special inquiry that she had no money, friends, or relatives in this country.
One day later, May 6, Mrs. Drew withdrew her appeal to Washington. I believe she saw the writing on the walls. At the time the letter was drafted, she had been detained for 11 days. For her, that was long enough. Margret’s request was approved and she was deported, returning home on the same ship she arrived on — the S.S. Ventura.
The last mention I found of her wasn’t in the newspaper. It was on another ship manifest. She arrived in Sydney on May 26, 1913 (20 days later). They had her listed as an “Unassisted Immigrant Passenger” under the name Mrs. P.M. Dreww.
The mystery of Percy
This is where I pull back the curtain and dispel any illusions you may have about Mr. Percy Drew. He wasn’t a hopeless romantic or spurned lover. An article from April 27, 1913 paints a picture of a very troubled soul.
Young Drew, at an early age, became afflicted mentally. Five years of age, he attempted to kill himself and was committed to a hospital for the insane from which he was released, it was said, at the solicitation of the wealthy parents of a young girl whom he was reported to have married. Drew subsequently disappeared and when next heard from, he had enlisted in the army.
The details about his previous wife or where he disappeared to remain mysterious. If I had to take a guess (and this is only a guess) this is what led to Percy arriving in Australia. Let’s start where the previous quote ends, “…he enlisted in the army.”
Percy Drew enlists in the U.S. Army as a steamfitter (a job that’s listed on the S.S. Ventura’s manifest arriving in San Francisco, April 25, 1913). The US Army sends him to either Hawaii or the Philippines where they had garrisons in 1911 and 1913 respectively (no passenger records exist that show him leaving the United States, so it was likely on a military transport). He goes awol and finds his way to New Zealand (a report shows that he contacted his parents a few weeks before his death — from Wellington — asking for money to return to Connecticut). And finally, Percy purchases a ticket from Wellington to Sydney with the intent to return to the United States aboard the Ventura on April 5, 1913.
The rest is history. I imagine Margret wasn’t ready for someone like Percy to come into her life. His erratic behavior was almost certainly foreshadowing a turbulent marriage. So, I concede that they are more like Jack and Rose than Prince Charming and Cinderella. Maybe, just maybe, Mrs. Drew’s story has a second chapter. I encourage anyone who knows more about Doris Drew (né Margaret Fortesque) to contact AIISF at info@aiisf.org.
