Surrender as such was not really an option in the face of chevauchee. This campaign strategy, as OP alludes, aimed at disruption and devastation of the enemy through utter destruction. Conquest--the taking and holding of territory--played no real role. The Black Prince's grande chevauchee launched in 1355, for example, burned its way into the Languedoc with absolutely no intention of staying. Faced with the prospect of a difficult siege of Toulouse (medieval sieges rarely went well for the attackers), they simply...went around it and kept burning and looting, then turned around and looped back north. In this chevauchee-campaign in particular, letters written by Edward's officers make it clear that financial destitution was a key goal of the raiders: John Wingfield bragged that the English-Gascon armies had laid waste to enough territory to reduce the French king's income (tax base) by more than fifty percent. It wasn't like Wingfield or his cohort was planning to stick around Carcassone or Villemagne or anywhere to rake in tax revenue before the French could collect it. They came to plunder, destroy, and probably kill.

There does not seem to have been any expectation, furthermore, that peasants resist raiders. The standard reaction to awareness of an approaching chevauchee--down to the level of trumpets blowing to warn field workers of imminent violent death--was to run and hide. This was acceptable: a common refuge would be a nearby fortified city or lord's castle. (Although if the army decided to lay siege to the castle, it could be disastrous for the peasants laying a burden on supply stores--there are cases of, weeks or months into a siege, peasants being turned back out of the castle because there just wasn't food, leaving the victims trapped in the frozen muddy wasteland between castle walls and the besieging army for months). In Iberia, as Christian warlords pushed south in the "Reconquista," the ability for people and livestock to take refuge in the local castle actually helped determine settlement and pastoral patterns!

Another popular option taken in peacetime was to fortify a village church. This is another way we know "to hide and just let the bad guys have their destructive way" was an acceptable peasant reaction: although lords might grumble about the potential for fortified churches to be used against them in the future, permission was nearly always granted.

And then there were villages like Naours/Somme, which built underground tunnel networks to shelter their inhabitants, and while that is of course tragic given the reasons, it is also fantastically cool.

Furthermore, while chevauchee raiders did need places to quarter at night, turning one's village/homes over to soldiers was no guarantee of protection. The Chronicon of English clerk Geoffrey le Baker observes that one night, part of Edward's army took shelter in the village of Pezance; moving out the next day, they scorched the countryside to both sides of them, including the village where they had slept.

Now, in some times and places, there might indeed be another choice: bribery. Henry V (in)famously offered the payment of patis to villages that his army thundered through during the Agincourt campaign; the penalty for not paying up was "to be set on fire and utterly destroyed" (Gesta Henrici Quinti). Appatisation also featured prominently in the Brittany campaigns of the 1340s and 50s, although it's unclear that Edward leaned on it. Enemy soldiers made appatisation an option in order to fill their own coffers, to fund their army--protection racket money in 1340s northern France apparently was enough to fund 85% of the English army's expenses.

Obviously, funding the opposing army was not a great look for a village from a loyalty standpoint. But against the chevauchee goal of disruption, sometimes paying patis was actually the smart tactical move for the defending side. Destruction of livestock and especially of fields meant no food for the coming winter (or, you know, right away). Over and over, we read in sources how refugees from scorched earth territory flooded into nearby cities--and became an enormous drain on Church and private charity. Peasants maneuvering to stay on their land, keep feeding themselves, and maybe pay taxes to the government again someday suddenly looked like a much better option than starving cities.

All too often, of course, peasants paying protection money to the invaders was a good deal for the home team for another reason. It preserved their livestock and grain stores to be plundered by their own side.

If you're interested in this sort of perspective, I'd highly recommend checking out David Green, The Hundred Year's War: A People's History. Some of his ideas are a little out of date--the Jacquerie rebellion, for example, was probably not a peasant protest in the strictest terms--but he does a fantastic job illuminating the perspectives and experiences of peasants, women, foot soldiers, and clergy along with the traditional noble leaders and milhist strategy aspects of the 100YW.