On the other side they were met with the argument, that the Legislature was sovereign and the supreme power of the State, and might rightfully do anything, not forbidden in the Constitution, pertaining to sovereignty, which they in their wisdom might deem essential to the general welfare; that the territory included in the grant to Oglethorpe and company was entirely too extended, and that by a sale a new State or States would be formed, which would increase the political power of the South—­especially in the United States Senate, where she greatly needed representation to counterbalance the influence of the small States of the North in that body.  These arguments were specious, but it was well understood they were only meant to justify a vote for the measure which corruption had secured.

The Act was passed by a bare majority of both branches of the Legislature, and the sale consummated.  Before the passage of this measure, the will of the people had been sufficiently expressed in the indignant outburst of public feeling, as to leave no doubt upon the minds of the corrupt representatives that they had not only forfeited the public confidence, but had actually imperilled their personal safety.  Upon the return to their homes, after the adjournment, they were not only met with universal scorn, but with inappeasable rage.  Some of the most guilty were slain; some had their houses burned over their heads, and others fled the State; one was pursued and killed in Virginia, and all not only entailed upon themselves infamy, but also upon their innocent posterity; and to-day, to be known as the descendant of a Yazoo man is a badge of disgrace.  The deed, however, was done:  how to undo it became an agitating question.  The Legislature next ensuing was elected pledged to repeal the odious Act; and upon its convening, all made haste to manifest an ardent zeal in this work.

At the time of the passage of this Act, the Legislature sat in Augusta, and the Governor who by the Act was empowered to make the sale was George Mathews.  Mathews was an Irishman by birth, and was very illiterate, but a man of strong passions and indomitable will.  During the war of the Revolution he had, as a partisan officer, gained some distinction, and in the upper counties exercised considerable influence.  Many anecdotes are related of his intrepidity and daring, and quite as many of his extraordinary orthography.  At the battle of Eutaw Springs, in South Carolina, he was severely wounded, at the moment when the Continental forces were retiring to a better position.  A British soldier, noticing some vestiges of a uniform upon him, lifted his musket to stab him with the bayonet; his commander caught the weapon, and angrily demanded, “Would you murder a wounded officer?  Forward, sir!” Mathews, turning upon his back, asked, “To whom do I owe my life?” “If you consider it an obligation, sir, to me,” answered the lieutenant.  Mathews saw the uniform was British, and furiously replied, “Well, sir, I want you to know that I scorn a life saved by a d——­d Briton.”  The writer had the anecdote from a distinguished citizen of Georgia, who was himself lying near by, severely wounded, and who in one of his sons has given to Georgia a Governor.