Ross Island, reclaimed for the residence and offices of British officers, marked a lifestyle of lavishness and splendour of alien rulers in juxtaposition to the heartless conditions of prisoners held in captivity in the Cellular Jail at Port Blair. Whatever might have been the reasons for the rulers to choose this island, lurking fear about their own safety at the hands of the freedom fighters whom they tagged as dangerous criminals, could be a consideration for opting for this Island separated by sea from Port Blair.

This tiny island was carefully chosen by Marine Surveyor Sir Daniel Ross, after whom it is named, to guard Port Blair harbour. The island was so near (and yet so afar) from Port Blair that it would be accessible by motorboats in a matter of minutes. Since the island was a heavily wooded forest, the freedom fighters of the First War of Independence were brought to this island and deployed to clear the forest of all wood and vegetation and make it suitable for building palatial buildings for the British rulers. After the construction of all facilities with their sweat and blood for the British masters, these freedom fighters who were kept in thatched huts, were shifted in the makeshift jail on Viper Island.

Facilities for the rulers themselves were grand and magnificent. The chief commissioner`s residence (called Government House) was built on the Northern Summit of Ross Island. It was a large gabled house with Italian tiled floors on the ground level. This level housed offices and a courtroom. The living rooms were on the top floor of this wooden house. The house was surrounded by gardens of Amaltas, yellow laburnum and mango trees, shrubbery and lawns. It had a private tennis court at the back and aviary on one side and a palm house on the other and a driveway curving up in front of shallow stone steps guarded by a cannon.

Col. M.L. Ferror, the then chief commissioner and seemingly a very happy occupant of the Government House in a letter to his mother dated 11th April, 1923 described the beauty of this bungalow in the following words: "The house is very attractive - down stairs a large hall, my office and miscellaneous godowns. A fine staircase with a wooden gallery all around the top and upstairs a very fine ballroom, drawing room and most spacious verandas forming rooms in themselves some 7 or 8 bed rooms. The whole thing in wood, brown teak panelling or some 10 feet and above that colour-washed much good furniture, but much also very bad wooden floors with rugs and mats strewn about it."

In his subsequent letter dated 23rd April 1923, he wrote about his living a luxuriant life and other facilities available at his residence - "They have heavy high wheeled double rickshaws with iron tyres pulled and pushed by six men, each dressed in red dosuti coats and read puggarees. These men also do garden work and pick up tennis balls. The houses are all wooden and doors are never shut except to keep out rain or mist. In that way it is like Bombay. There are no horse flies and no malarial mosquitoes on Ross."

Ross Island housed an exclusive club for the senior English officers, another for middle rung officers and yet another one for other ranks. A huge distillation plant brought from England met the drinking water needs of the sahibs. A stately Anglican Church enabled them to wash their sins and get ready for next day`s brutalities on the natives. A bakery for supplying them oven-fresh muffins and croissants, a shopping arcade and a cemetery to bury their dead were all there. A swimming pool with a filtration plant was a perfect foil to their leisurely life style. No wonder this little island came to be known as the `Paris of the East`. And all this to support a population of just five hundred habitants. Without doubt, Ross became a symbol and citadel of British power and wealth.

When Japanese`s Forces invaded the islands in 1942, the chief commissioner`s residence was occupied by the Japanese garrison commander. The Indian flag was also hoisted atop it in December 1943 when Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose visited the islands.

When the Japanese withdrew in 1945, British authorities were reluctant to return to Ross. A popular lore goes that they were dogged by a superstition that the island was sinking. A more believable explanation is that the `dangerous criminals` having been shifted from there, they found Port-Blair to be a safe place to set up their headquarters.

What remains now of Ross Island are mutilated steel, caved roofs and dilapidated structures and partially decipherable epitaphs on the graves of those who once ruled over this idyllic territory. The island now is under control of the Indian navy, which requires every visitor to sign in on entering.