And so, at this point, British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain arose – or perhaps he descended – to take the initiative to save the peace of the continent – temporarily – at almost whatever price Hitler demanded. Hitler later told Polish Ambassador Józef Lipski that he was “taken aback to a certain extent by Chamberlain's proposition to come to Berchtesgaden. It was, of course, impossible for him not to receive the British Prime Minister. He thought Chamberlain was coming to make a solemn declaration that Great Britain was ready to march.” He need not have worried.

The French Cabinet, it is true, was invited to London several times for extensive discussions, consultations, for the formulation of joint policy. And yet the most substantive British initiatives – the Runciman mission, the meetings at Berchtesgaden and Godesberg – were taken without consultation with the French. The French meekly consented. For all the wisdom of Daladier's speech at the first Anglo–French meeting in London on 28–29 April, he was eventually maneuvered by the wiles of Chamberlain into a compromise of which he was deeply ashamed. Conscious of their own military weakness and without any confidence in their Polish or Soviet allies, who in turn had no confidence in the French, they placed their hope entirely in the uncertain prospect of unity with the British Cabinet.