Presented to the Court of Spain.
Burgos, March 8th, 1777.
The present state of the dispute between America and Great Britain does not seem to be so fully understood, as to render a clear representation of it unnecessary.
America has declared herself independent, and has defeated all the efforts of Great Britain to reduce her during two campaigns. In this resistance she has hitherto stood alone and almost unassisted. Her infant and unprepared state has been compensated by her ardor, her indignation, her enthusiasm.
Great Britain, however, is determined to redouble her efforts to make this campaign decisive of the fate of America. In this situation, America offers her commerce and her friendship, which she has withdrawn from Great Britain, to Spain and France. This offer ought to be deemed of double value, because it takes from their rival and foe, what it gives to them. It is, therefore, taken for granted, that this is an object of the first magnitude, and worthy of the highest attention of both these Courts. It is also taken for granted, that Spain and France do not wish Great Britain should prevail in the contest, or regain America by conquest or conciliation. There remains, therefore, but this single question; whether it be more politic for the two powers to declare immediately, or to wait the event of the next campaign?
To judge of this, it will be necessary to consider what will be the probable event of the next campaign. As Great Britain is resolved to put forth her utmost strength, it is probable that the event will be, either the total reduction of America, or an accommodation founded upon a mutual conviction of each other’s strength; and this accommodation must be hastened by America being left destitute of any material assistance from Europe.
It is manifest, that the neutrality of Spain and France leaves the field open to the operations of the British force, and to the production of one of those events, either of which must be highly prejudicial to both nations and advantageous to their enemy. If Great Britain should be victorious, America will become a powerful instrument in her hands, to be wielded at her will against these countries; and that it will not remain long unemployed, no one will doubt, who knows that the Court of Great Britain is well informed of the countenance, at least, given to what they call a most dangerous rebellion, and that the head of that Court is of a temper that never forgives or forgets.
If an accommodation should produce a reunion, the same advantages will be lost, and almost all the same consequences are to be feared. The end of the campaign cannot, therefore, promise so favorable a moment for the interposition of Spain and France as the present; and in all human probability it will be then fruitless.
In truth, what moment can be wished more favorable than the present, when Great Britain is so equally matched by what were her Colonies, that the scales hang doubtful? Nor can it be questioned, that the interposition of Spain or France, and much more of both, would make that of America decidedly preponderate, and separate her from Great Britain forever. And what object can be more important, than to deprive her of this great and growing source of her commerce and her wealth, her marine, and her dominion?
There is nothing of which the Court of Great Britain is more persuaded, than that the loss of America would be the inevitable consequence of a war in Europe; nor is there a man in the nation that is ignorant of it; hence it is, that the king finds himself obliged, in all his speeches, to assure his Parliament of the tranquillity of Europe, that they may be emboldened to support his war against America. Hence it is, that they have labored to prevent a rupture between Spain and Portugal, and have, at length, renounced the latter. It is therefore certain, that Great Britain would endure any insult, short of an open and outrageous act of hostility, rather than engage in a European war during her contest with America.