But that was not what most people remembered about the speech. What they remembered later was the shock at hearing a prominent public figure utter the words “negotiated settlement” in the seat of government. Duff Cooper was furious. “What sort of terms would Germany offer?” he shouted from the Tory benches. “And who would be fool enough to believe in their sincerity?” The Labour MP David Grenfell was also aggrieved. After declaring himself an admirer of Lloyd George, Grenfell ripped the old Welshman apart. “If it had been anybody else,” Chamberlain wrote his sisters a few days later, “I should have felt sorry for him, but I can’t credit LlG with a spark of real humanity or generosity.”

Outside of a handful of aristocrats with ancient titles—Londonderry, Tavistock, Bessborough—and odd opinions, almost no British public figure of significance praised the Lloyd George speech. The public response was more enthusiastic. “Thousands and thousands have written him about peace,” A. J. Sylvester, Lloyd George’s chief aide, noted a few days after the House speech. Mail also flooded into Downing Street. In one three-day period in early October, Chamberlain received 2,450 letters, and 1,860 of them demanded an end to the war “in one form or other.” The sandal-wearing pacifists, the Oxbridge leftists, and the food faddists who drove George Orwell to distraction accounted for some of the mail, but most of the letters were from people in the broad middle of British public opinion. Members of this group were prepared to fight, but first they wanted all reasonable peace proposals explored.

Hitler’s speech on October 6 kept the peace debate alive and enhanced Lloyd George’s public standing. When the German leader said, “I believe even today that there can be . . . real peace in Europe and throughout the world, if Germany and England come to an understanding,” he seemed to be speaking directly to Lloyd George—and with Lloyd George, flattery went a long way. Watching him work a large crowd a few days after Hitler’s speech, Sylvester was reminded of an old “peacock with his tail in full show.” One moment “he was playing up to blue-blooded Tories . . . talking about our superb air force and the greatest navy in the world. Next, he was playing up the peace mongers, by advocating a conference and peace. He carried everybody off their feet and there was not even a single heckle or question. He had them so, he could make them laugh or cry at his will and pleasure.” Though no government official would admit it, the public conversation about a negotiated settlement also had an influence on official thinking. Like Lloyd George, the leaders of the dominions—Canada, Australia, South Africa, and New Zealand—complained that Chamberlain’s response to Hitler’s peace proposal on October 12 had gone “too far in the direction of slamming the door on further discussions.” It would be an exaggeration to say that the views of the king; Halifax; Sam Hoare, the home secretary; and Leslie Hore-Belisha, the secretary of war, mirrored Lloyd George’s, though not a large exaggeration. In private conversations in September and October 1939, all four men would warn that a German war of any length could result in “the complete economic, financial, and social collapse” of Britain.

Despite all the mutual antipathy, Chamberlain and Lloyd George actually agreed about the desirability of ending the war at the negotiating table. Where they differed was on how to make Hitler honor a peace agreement. The Munich settlement had lasted less than a year. What would prevent a new peace agreement from collapsing just as quickly? Lloyd George’s answer was guarantors. Hitler would not dare violate a settlement guaranteed by Russia, Italy, and the United States. Chamberlain believed guarantors were insufficient. Germany also had to learn, once and for all, that aggression does not pay, and his war plan had been crafted to achieve that end. With a minimum of bloodshed, Britain—and France—would make the price of aggression intolerable for Germany.