These reasons would justify British officers in many circumstances, but they scarcely warranted King in leaving even for the short period of ten days, the time occupied over the transaction, such an awkward command as the government of a penal settlement.  The senior officer under King was Lieutenant Abbott, of the New South Wales Corps; and, instead of appointing him to the command of the island in his absence, King left Captain Nepean, of the same regiment, in charge.  This officer was at the time about to go to England on sick leave, and King’s reason for his selection was that he had no confidence in either Abbott or the subaltern under him.  There is plenty of evidence that King was right in his want of confidence in these officers, but the action gave mortal offence to Grose, and King’s absence from the command gave Grose his opportunity.  But King did worse:  Grose was his superior officer, and until Abbott had “got in first” with his grievances King never offered any explanation of his acts to the senior officer, but sent his account of the trip, his reasons for undertaking it and for giving the command to Nepean, directly to the Home Office.

Grose was unjustly severe, was downright offensive over the business; but, to do him justice, he afterwards realized this, and ultimately considerably moderated his behaviour.  But there was another and a greater cause of irritation to the lieutenant-governor at Port Jackson, who, be it remembered, was also the officer commanding the New South Wales Regiment:  This was the way in which King suppressed a serious military mutiny at Norfolk Island.

Naturally enough, the men of the New South Wales Corps stationed on the little island fraternized with the convicts.  The two classes of the population drank and gambled together, and of course quarrelled; then the soldiers and the prisoners’ wives became too intimate, and the quarrels between parties grew serious.  A time-expired prisoner caught his wife and a soldier together; the aggrieved husband struck the soldier, and the latter complained.  The man was fined 20s., bound over to keep the peace for twelve months, and allowed by King time to pay the fine.  This exasperated the whole military detachment.  The idea of an ex-convict striking a soldier who had done him the honour to seduce his wife, and being fined a paltry sovereign, with time to pay!

Then, in January, 1794, a number of freed men and convicts were, by permission of the governor, performing a play; this had been a regular Saturday evening’s amusement for some weeks.  Just before the performance began a sergeant of the corps entered the theatre and forcibly tried to take a seat that had been allotted to one of the lieutenant-governor’s servants.  A discharged convict, who was one of the [Sidenote:  1794] managers of the theatre, remonstrated with the soldier, who replied with a blow.  The ex-convict then turned the man out of the building, and the performance began, King entering the theatre when all was quiet, but having his suspicions aroused by the threatening aspect of the soldiers.