Ye others shall stand behind with stones.
Should they break through our barricades, slash at the horses with your scythes.

Once down, the riders are no match for ye.' A low sullen murmur of determined resolution rose from the peasants, mingled with pious ejaculations and little scraps of hymn or of prayer.
They had all produced from under their smocks rustic weapons of some sort.

Ten or twelve had petronels, which, from their antique look and rusty condition, threatened to be more dangerous to their possessors than to the enemy.

Others had sickles, scythe-blades, flails, half-pikes, or hammers, while the remainder carried long knives and oaken clubs.

Simple as were these weapons, history has proved that in the hands of men who are deeply stirred by religious fanaticism they are by no means to be despised.