“As a security for the future,” wrote Madison,[23] “an entire abolition of impressments from vessels under the flag of the United States, if not already arranged, is also to make an indispensable part of the satisfaction.” Among the many impossibilities which had been required of Monroe during the last four years, this was one of the plainest. The demand was preliminary, in ordinary diplomatic usage, to a declaration of war; and nothing in Jefferson’s Presidency was more surprising than that he should have thought such a policy of accumulating unsettled causes for war consistent with his policy of peace. While the “Revenge” was slowly working across the Atlantic, Monroe in London was exposed to the full rigor of the fresh storm. News of the “Chesapeake” affair reached London July 25; and before it could become public Canning wrote to Monroe a private note,[24] cautiously worded, announcing that a “transaction” had taken place “off the coast of America,” the particulars of which he was not at present enabled to communicate, and was anxious to receive from Monroe:-- “But whatever the real merits and character of the transaction may turn out to be, Mr. Canning could not forbear expressing without delay the sincere concern and sorrow which he feels at its unfortunate result, and assuring the American minister, both from himself and on the behalf of his Majesty’s government, that if the British officers should prove to have been culpable, the most prompt and effectual reparation shall be afforded to the government of the United States.” When on Monday morning, July 27, Monroe read in the newspapers the account of what had taken place, and realized that Canning, while giving out that he knew not the particulars, must have had Admiral Berkeley’s official report within his reach if not on his table, the American minister could not but feel that the British secretary might have spoken with more frankness. In truth ministers were waiting to consult the law, and to learn whether Berkeley could be sustained. The extreme Tories, who wanted a quarrel with the United States; the reckless, who were delighted with every act of violence, which they called energy; the mountebanks, represented by Cobbett, who talked at random according to personal prejudices,--all approved Berkeley’s conduct. The Ministry, not yet accustomed to office, and disposed to assert the power they held, could not easily reconcile themselves to disavowing a British admiral whose popular support came from the ranks of their own party. Seeing this, Monroe became more and more alarmed. The tone of the press was extravagant enough to warrant despair. July 27 the “Morning Post,” which was apt to draw its inspiration from the Foreign Office, contained a diatribe on the “Chesapeake” affair.