Lafayette heard of the plan and sent couriers to Versailles to warn the King and the Assembly of what was in the air. All day he tried his best to quiet the people and induce them to give up the march. He forbade the National Guards to leave their posts, and at first they obeyed him. But presently deputation after deputation came to him. “General,” said one of his men, “we do not think you a traitor; but we think the government betrays you. It is time that this end. We cannot turn our bayonets against women crying to us for bread. The people are miserable; the source of the mischief is at Versailles; we must go seek the King and bring him to Paris.” That was the view of the Guards, and it grew more and more positive. Armed crowds were leaving the city, dragging cannon, and at last the Guards surrounded their commander and declared their intention to march and to take him with them. So finally Lafayette set out for Versailles, preceded and followed by an immense rabble of men and women. Meantime the couriers sent by Lafayette to Versailles had reported the news of the march of the mob. The Assembly could think of nothing that would pacify the people, and contented itself with sending messengers to the King, who happened to be hunting in the Versailles forests. Louis returned to his palace to find his body-guards, the Swiss and the Flanders Regiment, drawn up in the courtyards as though to withstand a siege. In the middle of the afternoon the first crowd of women, led by Maillard beating his drum, arrived at Versailles. Some marched to the Assembly and shouted to the deputies to pass laws at once that should lower the price of bread. Others paraded through the streets, and still others went to the palace to see the King, who received them very kindly and tried to assure them that he entirely agreed with all their wishes. But the royal family had taken alarm and wanted to fly from the palace. Their carriages were ordered out, and the body-guards placed in readiness to serve as escort. This plan became known, however, and when the carriages drove out from the great stables some of the National Guards themselves seized the horses’ heads and turned them back. The National Assembly itself was in an uproar. The President, Mounier, left the chamber to see the King, and when he came back he found a fat fishwoman making a speech to the crowd from his own chair. The Assembly had taken power and authority away from the King; now the mob was bent on doing the same thing to the Assembly.