Thomas Bosomworth, decked in full canonical robes, headed the Indians by the side of his empress wife, dressed in Indian costume; and an imposing procession they made, with plenty of theatrical color. At first the desperate colonists thought of seizing Mary and shipping her off to England to Oglethorpe, but this notion was abandoned. As the English soldiers were very few at that special time, and the Indian warriors many, we can well believe that the colonists were well scared, the more so that when the Indians were asked the reason of their visit, “their answers were very trifling and very dark.” So a feast was offered them, but Mary and her brother refused to come and to eat; and the dinner was scarcely under way when more armed Indians appeared from all quarters in the streets, running up and down in an uproar, and the town was in great confusion. The alarm drums were beaten, and it was reported that the Indians had cut off the head of the president as they sat together at the feast. Every man in the colony turned out in full arms for duty, the women and children gathered in groups in their homes in unspeakable terror. Then the president and his assistants who had been at the dinner, and who had gone unarmed to show their friendly intent, did what they should have done in the beginning, seized that disreputable specimen of an English missionary, the Rev. Mr. Bosomworth, and put him in prison; and we wonder they kept their hands off him as long as they did. Still trying to settle the matter without bloodshed, the president asked the Indian chiefs to adjourn to his house “to drink a glass of wine and talk the matter over.” Into this conference came Mary, bereft of her husband, raging like a madwoman, threatening the lives of the magistrates, swearing she would annihilate the colony. “A fig for your general,” screamed she, “you own not a foot of land in this colony. The whole earth is mine.” Whereupon the Empress of Georgia, too, was placed under military guard.