On 1 July 1910, Vinayak Damodar Savarkar was removed from Brixton Prison under the heaviest of guards. His fate had been sealed: the British authorities had resolved to send him back to India to face trial in connection with revolutionary activities and the Nasik Conspiracy Case. For this purpose, he was placed aboard the French mail steamer S.S. Morea, a civilian passenger vessel of the Messageries Maritimes line, which regularly sailed the London–Bombay route.
From the very beginning, the transfer bore the weight of political drama. Savarkar was escorted by Inspector Edward John Parker of the Metropolitan Police and CID official Charles John Power, supported by two Indian head constables: Amar Singh of the Nashik police and Muhammad Siddik of the Poona police. These men formed a cordon around him, carrying strict instructions to watch him every moment of the voyage. In essence, Savarkar was “delivered” into their hands like a dangerous political consignment.
The Atmosphere of Confinement
Although the Morea was a commercial liner and not a prison ship, Savarkar was treated as a high-value prisoner. Confined to a locked cabin, he remained under constant surveillance. Whenever he was permitted to leave his quarters—for meals or to use the facilities—he was escorted by guards.
This extraordinary vigilance reflected British fears: they knew Savarkar had sympathizers in Europe, especially in Paris and Marseille, where exiled revolutionaries were active. They dreaded an attempted rescue. To minimize attention, the transfer was carried out quietly, yet word of it reached Indian nationalist circles abroad. Figures like Madame Bhikaji Cama were already alert to his movements.
Savarkar’s Inner World
Behind the locked cabin doors, Savarkar was far from broken. He knew that once the ship reached India, escape would be impossible, and the consequences could be as severe as death or life imprisonment in the Andamans.
Instead of despair, he turned his attention to the ship itself. Observing the cabin, the deck, and the sequence of ports along the route, he began to map out possibilities. One place in particular drew his focus: Marseille, France. If he could set foot there, he could claim asylum on French soil.
The Irony of a French Ship
The choice of a French steamer was, for the British, a matter of routine convenience—the Morea was a reliable vessel on the Bombay route. But this seemingly minor detail contained the seeds of a great diplomatic embarrassment. By transporting Savarkar on a ship that would dock in French territory, they inadvertently gave him a slim window of opportunity.
Savarkar would exploit precisely this chance at Marseille, leading to his daring escape and re-arrest, and eventually sparking the celebrated “Savarkar Case” before the Permanent Court of Arbitration at The Hague. The transfer onto the S.S. Morea was thus not merely the beginning of a journey back to India. It was the prologue to one of the most dramatic and internationally significant episodes in Savarkar’s life—an episode where courage, calculation, and circumstance converged on the docks of Marseille.
💭 What do you think? Why do you think the British authorities placed such extraordinary security around Savarkar during the transfer? What does the presence of both British and Indian police officers in his escort reveal about colonial power structures? What part of this story strikes you most: the heavy guard, Savarkar’s resolve, or the irony of British reliance on a French ship?
👉 Share your thoughts in the comments below!
Sources:
Keer, Dhananjay. 1988. Veer Savarkar. Third Edition. (Second Edition: 1966). Popular Prakashan: Bombay (Mumbai).
SAMPATH, Vikram. 2019. Savarkar (Part 1). Echoes from a forgotten past. 1883-1924.Penguin Random House India: Gurgaon.
SHANKAR, Ravi (1924). “Savarkar in Europe from 1906 to 1910: A Reappraisal.” Contemporary Social Sciences, vol. 33, no. 2, June 30.
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