been exhibited was Willingdon Beauty) was
so highly regarded on the farm that
everyone was quite ready to lose an hour's
sleep in order to hear what he had to say.

At one end of the big barn, on a sort of
raised platform, Major was already
ensconced on his bed of straw, under a
lantern which hung from a beam. He was
twelve years old and had lately grown rather
stout, but he was still a majestic-looking
pig, with a wise and benevolent
appearance in spite of the fact that his
tushes had never been cut. Before long the
other animals began to arrive and make
themselves comfortable after their different
fashions. First came the three dogs,
Bluebell, Jessie, and Pincher , and then the
pigs, who settled down in the straw
immediately in front of the platform. The
hens perched themselves on the window-
sills, the pigeons fluttered up to the rafters,
the sheep and cows lay down behind the
pigs and began to chew the cud. The two
cart-horses, Boxer and Clover, came in
together, walking very slowly and setting
down their vast hairy hoofs with great care
lest there should be some small animal
concealed in the straw. Clover was a stout
motherly mare approaching middle life,
who had never quite got her figure back
after her fourth foal. Boxer was an
enormous beast, nearly eighteen hands
high, and as strong as any two ordinary
horses put together. A white stripe down his

-1-

perch behind the back door. When Major
saw that they had all made themselves
comfortable and were waiting attentively,
he cleared his throat and began:

'Comrades, you have heard already about
the strange dream that I had last night. But I
will come to the dream later. I have
something else to say first. I do not think,
comrades, that I shall be with you for many
months longer, and before I die, I feel it my
duty to pass on to you such wisdom as I
have acquired. I have had a long life, I have
had much time for thought as I lay alone in
my stall, and I think I may say that I
understand the nature of life on this earth as
well as any animal now living. It is about this
that I wish to speak to you.

'Now, comrades, what is the nature of this
life of ours? Let us face it: our lives are
miserable, laborious, and short. We are
born, we are given just so much food as will
keep the breath in our bodies, and those of
us who are capable of it are forced to work
to the last atom of our strength; and the very
instant that our usefulness has come to an
end we are slaughtered with hideous
cruelty. No animal in England knows the
meaning of happiness or leisure after he is
a year old. No animal in England is free. The
life of an animal is misery and slavery: that
is the plain truth.

'But is this simply part of the order of
nature? Is it because this land of ours is so
poor that it cannot afford a decent life to
those who dwell upon it? No, comrades, a
thousand times no! The soil of England is
fertile, its climate is good, it is capable of
affording food in abundance to an
enormously greater number of animals than
now inhabit it. This single farm of ours
would support a dozen horses, twenty
cows, hundreds of sheep and all of them
living in a comfort and a dignity that are now

-2-

had over four hundred children. Such is the
natural life of a pig. But no animal escapes
the cruel knife in the end. You young porkers
who are sitting in front of me, every one of
you will scream your lives out at the block
within a year. To that horror we all must
come cows, pigs, hens, sheep, everyone.
Even the horses and the dogs have no
better fate. You, Boxer, the very day that
those great muscles of yours lose their
power, Jones will sell you to the knacker,
who will cut your throat and boil you down
for the foxhounds. As for the dogs, when
they grow old and toothless, Jones ties a
brick round their necks and drowns them in
the nearest pond.

'Is it not crystal clear, then, comrades, that
all the evils of this life of ours spring from the
tyranny of human beings? Only get rid of
Man, and the produce of our labour would
be our own. Almost overnight we could
become rich and free. What then must we
do? Why, work night and day, body and
soul, for the overthrow of the human race!
That is my message to you, comrades:
Rebellion! I do not know when that Rebellion
will come, it might be in a week or in a
hundred years, but I know, as surely as I see
this straw beneath my feet, that sooner or
later justice will be done. Fix your eyes on
that, comrades, throughout the short
remainder of your lives! And above all, pass
on this message of mine to those who come
after you, so that future generations shall
carry on the struggle until it is victorious.

'And remember, comrades, your resolution
must never falter. No argument must lead
you astray. Never listen when they tell you
that Man and the animals have a common
interest, that the prosperity of the one is the
prosperity of the others. It is all lies. Man
serves the interests of no creature except
himself. And among us animals let there be
perfect unity, perfect comradeship in the

-3-

dream of last night. I cannot describe that
dream to you. It was a dream of the earth as
it will be when Man has vanished. But it
reminded me of something that I had long
forgotten. Many years ago, when I was a
little pig, my mother and the other sows
used to sing an old song of which they knew
only the tune and the first three words. I had
known that tune in my infancy, but it had long
since passed out of my mind. Last night,
however, it came back to me in m y dream.
And what is more, the words of the song
also came back words, I am certain, which
were sung by the animals of long ago and
have been lost to memory for generations. I
will sing you that song now, comrades. I am
old and my voice is hoarse, but when I have
taught you the tune, you can sing it better for
yourselves. It is called "Beasts of England".'

Old Major cleared his throat and began to
sing. As he had said, his voice was hoarse,
but he sang well enough, and it was a
stirring tune, something between
'Clementine' and 'La Cucaracha'. The
words ran:


Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken to my joyful tidings
Of the golden future time.
Soon or late the day is coming,
Tyrant Man shall be o'erthrown,
And the fruitful fields of England
Shall be trod by beasts alone.
Rings shall vanish from our noses,
And the harness from our back,
Bit and spur shall rust forever,
Cruel whips no more shall crack.
Riches more than mind can picture,
Wheat and barley, oats and hay,
Clover, beans, and mangel-wurzels
Shall be ours upon that day.
Bright will shine the fields of England,
Purer shall its waters be,

-4-

peacefully in his sleep. His body was buried
at the foot of the orchard.

This was early in March. During the next
three months there was much secret
activity. Major's speech had given to the
more intelligent animals on the farm a
completely new outlook on life. They did not
know when the Rebellion predicted by
Major would take place, they had no reason
for thinking that it would be within their own
lifetime, but they saw clearly that it was their
duty to prepare for it. The work of teaching
and organising the others fell naturally upon
the pigs, who were generally recognised as
being the cleverest of the animals. Pre-
eminent among the pigs were two young
boars named Snowball and Napoleon,
whom Mr. Jones was breeding up for sale.
Napoleon was a large, rather fierce-
looking Berkshire boar, the only Berkshire
on the farm, not much of a talker, but with a
reputation for getting his own way.
Snowball was a more vivacious pig than
Napoleon, quicker in speech and more
inventive, but was not considered to have
the same depth of character. All the other
male pigs on the farm were porkers. The
best known among them was a small fat pig
named Squealer, with very round cheeks,
twinkling eyes, nimble movements, and a
shrill voice. He was a brilliant talker, and
when he was arguing some difficult point he
had a way of skipping from side to side and
whisking his tail which was somehow very
persuasive. The others said of Squealer
that he could turn black into white.

These three had elaborated old Major's
teachings into a complete system of
thought, to which they gave the name of
Animalism. Several nights a week, after Mr.
Jones was asleep, they held secret
meetings in the barn and expounded the
principles of Animalism to the others. At the
beginning they met with much stupidity and

-5-

and linseed cake grew on the hedges. The
animals hated Moses because he told tales
and did no work, but some of them believed
in Sugarcandy Mountain, and the pigs had
to argue very hard to persuade them that
there was no such place.

Their most faithful disciples were the two
cart-horses, Boxer and Clover. These two
had great difficulty in thinking anything out
for themselves, but having once accepted
the pigs as their teachers, they absorbed
everything that they were told, and passed it
on to the other animals by simple
arguments. They were unfailing in their
attendance at the secret meetings in the
barn, and led the singing of 'Beasts of
England', with which the meetings always
ended.

Now, as it turned out, the Rebellion was
achieved much earlier and more easily than
anyone had expected. In past years Mr.
Jones, although a hard master, had been a
capable farmer, but of late he had fallen on
evil days. He had become much
disheartened after losing money in a
lawsuit, and had taken to drinking more than
was good for him. For whole days at a time
he would lounge in his Windsor chair in the
kitchen, reading the newspapers, drinking,
and occasionally feeding Moses on crusts
of bread soaked in beer. His men were idle
and dishonest, the fields were full of
weeds, the buildings wanted roofing, the
hedges were neglected, and the animals
were underfed.

June came and the hay was almost ready
for cutting. On Midsummer's Eve, which
was a Saturday, Mr. Jones went into
Willingdon and got so drunk at the Red Lion
that he did not come back till midday on
Sunday. The men had milked the cows in
the early morning and then had gone out
rabbiting, without bothering to feed the

-6-

hardly believe in their good fortune. Their
first act was to gallop in a body right round
the boundaries of the farm, as though to
make quite sure that no human being was
hiding anywhere upon it; then they raced
back to the farm buildings to wipe out the
last traces of Jones's hated reign. The
harness-room at the end of the stables was
broken open; the bits, the nose-rings, the
dog-chains, the cruel knives with which Mr.
Jones had been used to castrate the pig s
and lambs, were all flung down the well. The
reins, the halters, the blinkers, the
degrading nosebags, were thrown on to the
rubbish fire which was burning in the yard.
So were the whips. All the animals capered
with joy when they saw the whips going up
in flames. Snowball also threw on to the fire
the ribbons with which the horses' manes
and tails had usually been decorated on
market days.

'Ribbons,' he said, 'should be considered
as clothes, which are the mark of a human
being. All animals should go naked.'

When Boxer heard this he fetched the small
straw hat which he wore in summer to keep
the flies out of his ears, and flung it on to the
fire with the rest.

In a very little while the animals had
destroyed everything that reminded them of
Mr. Jones. Napoleon then led them back to
the store-shed and served out a double
ration of corn to everybody, with two
biscuits for each dog. Then they sang
Beasts of England from end to end seven
times running, and after that they settled
down for the night and slept as they had
never slept before.

But they woke at dawn as usual, and
suddenly remembering the glorious thing
that had happened, they all raced out into
the pasture together. A little way down the

-7-

were taken out for burial, and the barrel of
beer in the scullery was stove in with a kick
from Boxer's hoof, otherwise nothing in the
house was touched. A unanimous
resolution was passed on the spot that the
farmhouse should be preserved as a
museum. All were agreed that no animal
must ever live there.

The animals had their breakfast, and then
Snowball and Napoleon called them
together again.

'Comrades,' said Snowball, 'it is half-past
six and we have a long day before us.
Today we begin the hay harvest. But there is
another matter that must be attended to
first.'

The pigs now revealed that during the past
three months they had taught themselves to
read and write from an old spelling book
which had belonged to Mr. Jones's children
and which had been thrown on the rubbish
heap. Napoleon sent for pots of black and
white paint and led the way down to the five-
barred gate that gave on to the main road.
Then Snowball (for it was Snowball who
was best at writing) took a brush between
the two knuckles of his trotter, painted out
MANOR FARM from the top bar of the gate
and in its place painted ANIMAL FARM.
This was to be the name of the farm from
now onwards. After this they went back to
the farm buildings, where Snowball and
Napoleon sent for a ladder which they
caused to be set against the end wall of the
big barn. They explained that by their
studies of the past three months the pigs
had succeeded in reducing the principles of
Animalism to Seven Commandments.
These Seven Commandments would now
be inscribed on the wall; they would form an
unalterable law by which all the animals on
Animal Farm must live for ever after. With
some difficulty (for it is not easy for a pig to

-8-

fairly successfully, their trotters being well
adapted to this task. Soon there were five
buckets of frothing creamy milk at which
many of the animals looked with
considerable interest.

'What is going to happen to all that milk?'
said someone.

'Jones used sometimes to mix some of it in
our mash,' said one of the hens.

'Never mind the milk, comrades!' cried
Napoleon, placing himself in front of the
buckets. 'That will be attended to. The
harvest is more important. Comrade
Snowball will lead the way. I shall follow in a
few minutes. Forward, comrades! The hay
is waiting.'

So the animals trooped down to the hayfield
to begin the harvest, and when they came
back in the evening it was noticed that the
milk had disappeared.

Chapter 3

HOW THEY TOILED AND SWEATED to get
the hay in! But their efforts were rewarded,
for the harvest was an even bigger success
than they had hoped.

Sometimes the work was hard; the
implements had been designed for human
beings and not for animals, and it was a
great drawback that no animal was able to
use any tool that involved standing on his
hind legs. But the pigs were so clever that
they could think of a way round every
difficulty. As for the horses, they knew every
inch of the field, and in fact understood the
business of mowing and raking far better
than Jones and his men had ever done. The
pigs did not actually work, but directed and
supervised the others. With their superior
knowledge it was natural that they should

-9-

From morning to night he was pushing and
pulling, always at the spot where the work
was hardest. He had made an arrangement
with one of the cockerels to call him in the
mornings half an hour earlier than anyone
else, and would put in some volunteer
labour at whatever seemed to be most
needed, before the regular day's work
began. His answer to every problem, every
setback, was 'I will work harder!' which he
had adopted as his personal motto.

But everyone worked according to his
capacity The hens and ducks, for instance,
saved five bushels of corn at the harvest by
gathering up the stray grains. Nobody stole,
nobody grumbled over his rations, the
quarrelling and biting and jealousy which
had been normal features of life in the old
days had almost disappeared. Nobody
shirked or almost nobody. Mollie, it was
true, was not good at getting up in the
mornings, and had a way of leaving work
early on the ground that there was a stone in
her hoof. And the behaviour of the cat was
somewhat peculiar. It was soon noticed that
when there was work to be done the cat
could never be found. She would vanish for
hours on end, and then reappear at meal-
times, or in the evening after work was
over, as though nothing had happened. But
she always made such excellent excuses,
and purred so affectionately, that it was
impossible not to believe in her good
intentions. Old Benjamin, the donkey,
seemed quite unchanged since the
Rebellion. He did his work in the same slow
obstinate way as he had done it in Jones's
time, never shirking and never volunteering
for extra work either. About the Rebellion
and its results he would express no opinion.
When asked whether he was not happier
now that Jones was gone, he would say
only 'Donkeys live a long time. None of you
has ever seen a dead donkey,' and the
others had to be content with this cryptic

-10-

farmhouse. Snowball also busied himself
with organising the other animals into what
he called Animal Committees. He was
indefatigable at this. He formed the Egg
Production Committee for the hens, the
Clean Tails League for the cows, the Wild
Comrades' Re-education Committee (the
object of this was to tame the rats and
rabbits), the Whiter Wool Movement for the
sheep, and various others, besides
instituting classes in reading and writing. On
the whole, these projects were a failure.
The attempt to tame the wild creatures, for
instance, broke down almost immediately.
They continued to behave very much as
before, and when treated with generosity,
simply took advantage of it. The cat joined
the Reeducation Committee and was very
active in it for some days. She was seen
one day sitting on a roof and talking to some
sparrows who were just out of her reach.
She was telling them that all animals were
now comrades and that any sparrow who
chose could come and perch on her paw;
but the sparrows kept their distance.

The reading and writing classes, however,
were a great success. By the autumn almost
every animal on the farm was literate in
some degree.

As for the pigs, they could already read and
write perfectly. The dogs learned to read
fairly well, but were not interested in reading
anything except the Seven
Commandments. Muriel, the goat, could
read somewhat better than the dogs, and
sometimes used to read to the others in the
evenings from scraps of newspaper which
she found on the rubbish heap. Benjamin
could read as well as any pig, but never
exercised his faculty. So far as he knew, he
said, there was nothing worth reading.
Clover learnt the whole alphabet, but could
not put words together. Boxer could not get
beyond the letter D. He would trace out A,

-11-

FOUR LEGS GOOD, TWO LEGS BAD,
was inscribed on the end wall of the barn,
above the Seven Commandments and in
bigger letters When they had once got it by
heart, the sheep developed a great liking
for this maxim, and often as they lay in the
field they would all start bleating 'Four legs
good, two legs bad! Four legs good, two
legs bad!' and keep it up for hours on end,
never growing tired of it.

Napoleon took no interest in Snowball's
committees. He said that the education of
the young was more important than anything
that could be done for those who were
already grown up. It happened that Jessie
and Bluebell had both whelped soon after
the hay harvest, giving birth between them
to nine sturdy puppies. As soon as they
were weaned, Napoleon took them away
from their mothers, saying that he would
make himself responsible for their
education. He took them up into a loft which
could only be reached by a ladder from the
harness-room, and there kept them in such
seclusion that the rest of the farm soon
forgot their existence.

The mystery of where the milk went to was
soon cleared up. It was mixed every day into
the pigs' mash. The early apples were now
ripening, and the grass of the orchard was
littered with windfalls. The animals had
assumed as a matter of course that these
would be shared out equally; one day,
however, the order went forth that all the
windfalls were to be collected and brought
to the harness-room for the use of the pigs.
At this some of the other animals
murmured, but it was no use. All the pigs
were in full agreement on this point, even
Snowball and Napoleon. Squealer was sent
to make the necessary explanations to the
others.

'Comrades!' he cried. 'You do not imagine,

-12-

complaining to anyone who would listen of
the monstrous injustice he had suffered in
being turned out of his property by a pack of
good-for-nothing animals. The other
farmers sympathised in principle, but they
did not at first give him much help. At heart,
each of them was secretly wondering
whether he could not somehow turn Jones's
misfortune to his own advantage. It was
lucky that the owners of the two farms which
adjoined Animal Farm were on
permanently bad terms. One of them, which
was named Foxwood, was a large,
neglected, old-fashioned farm, much
overgrown by woodland, with all its
pastures worn out and its hedges in a
disgraceful condition. Its owner, Mr.
Pilkington, was an easy-going gentleman
farmer who spent most of his time in fishing
or hunting according to the season. The
other farm, which was called Pinchfield,
was smaller and better kept. Its owner was
a Mr. Frederick, a tough, shrewd man,
perpetually involved in lawsuits and with a
name for driving hard bargains. These two
disliked each other so much that it was
difficult for them to come to any agreement,
even in defence of their own interests.

Nevertheless, they were both thoroughly
frightened by the rebellion on Animal Farm,
and very anxious to prevent their own
animals from learning too much about it. At
first they pretended to laugh to scorn the
idea of animals managing a farm for
themselves. The whole thing would be over
in a fortnight, they said. They put it about that
the animals on the Manor Farm (they
insisted on calling it the Manor Farm; they
would not tolerate the name 'Animal Farm')
were perpetually fighting among
themselves and w ere also rapidly starving
to death. When time passed and the animals
had evidently not starved to death,
Frederick and Pilkington changed their tune
and began to talk of the terrible wickedness

-13-

entered the five-barred gate and were
coming up the cart-track that led to the farm.
They were all carrying sticks, except Jones,
who was marching ahead with a gun in his
hands. Obviously they were going to
attempt the re capture of the farm.

This had long been expected, and all
preparations had been made. Snowball,
who had studied an old book of Julius
Caesar's campaigns which he had found in
the farmhouse, was in charge of the
defensive operations. He gave his orders
quickly, and in a couple of minutes every
animal was at his post.

As the human beings approached the farm
buildings, Snowball launched his first
attack. All the pigeons, to the number of
thirty-five, flew to and fro over the men's
heads and muted upon them from mid-air;
and while the men were dealing with this,
the geese, who had been hiding behind the
hedge, rushed out and pecked viciously at
the calves of their legs. However, this was
only a light skirmishing manoeuvre,
intended to create a little disorder, and the
men easily drove the geese off with their
sticks. Snowball now launched his second
line of attack. Muriel, Benjamin, and all the
sheep, with Snowball at the head of them,
rushed forward and prodded and butted the
men from every side, while Benjamin
turned around and lashed at them with his
small hoofs. But once again the men, with
their sticks and their hobnailed boots, were
too strong for them; and suddenly, at a
squeal from Snowball, which was the signal
for retreat, all the animals turned and fled
through the gateway into the yard.

The men gave a shout of triumph. They saw,
as they imagined, their enemies in flight,
and they rushed after them in disorder. This
was just what Snowball had intended. As
soon as they were well inside the yard, the

-14-

did not do this on purpose?'

'No sentimentality, comrade!' cried
Snowball from whose wounds the blood
was still dripping. 'War is war. The only good
human being is a dead one.'

'I have no wish to take life, not even human
life,' repeated Boxer, and his eyes were full
of tears.

'Where is Mollie?' exclaimed somebody.

Mollie in fact was missing. For a moment
there was great alarm; it was feared that the
men might have harmed her in some way,
or even carried her off with them. In the end,
however, she was found hiding in her stall
with her head buried among the hay in the
manger. She had taken to flight as soon as
the gun went off. And when the others came
back from looking for her, it was to find that
the stable-lad, who in fact was only
stunned, had already recovered and made
off.

The animals had now reassembled in the
wildest excitement, each recounting his
own exploits in the battle at the top of his
voice. An impromptu celebration of the
victory was held immediately. The flag was
run up and 'Beasts of England' was sung a
number of times, then the sheep who had
been killed was given a solemn funeral, a
hawthorn bush being planted on her grave.
At the graveside Snowball made a little
speech, emphasising the need for all
animals to be ready to die for Animal Farm
if need be.

The animals decided unanimously to create
a military decoration, 'Animal Hero, First
Class,' which was conferred there and then
on Snowball and Boxer. It consisted of a
brass medal (they were really some old
horse-brasses which had been found in the

-15-

mean, Mollie?'

'He didn't! I wasn't! It isn't true!' cried
Mollie, beginning to prance about and paw
the ground.

'Mollie! Look me in the face. Do you give
me your word of honour that that man was
not stroking your nose?'

'It isn't true!' repeated Mollie, but she could
not look Clover in the face, and the next
moment she took to her heels and galloped
away into the field.

A thought struck Clover. Without saying
anything to the others, she went to Mollie's
stall and turned over the straw with her hoof.
Hidden under the straw was a little pile of
lump sugar and several bunches of ribbon
of different colours.

Three days later Mollie disappeared. For
some weeks nothing was known of her
whereabouts, then the pigeons reported
that they had seen her on the other side of
Willingdon. She was between the shafts of a
smart dogcart painted red and black, which
was standing outside a public-house. A fat
red-faced man in check breeches and
gaiters, who looked like a publican, was
stroking her nose and feeding her with
sugar. Her coat was newly clipped and she
wore a scarlet ribbon round her forelock.
She appeared to be enjoying herself, so
the pigeons said. None of the animals ever
mentioned Mollie again.

In January there came bitterly hard weather.
The earth was like iron, and nothing could
be done in the fields. Many meetings were
held in the big barn, and the pigs occupied
themselves with planning out the work of the
coming season. It had come to be accepted
that the pigs, who were manifestly cleverer
than the other animals, should decide all

-16-

surveying the ground, Snowball declared
that this was just the place for a windmill,
which could be made to operate a dynamo
and supply the farm with electrical power.
This would light the stalls and warm them in
winter, and would also run a circular saw, a
chaff-cutter, a mangel-slicer, and an
electric milking machine. The animals had
never heard of anything of this kind before (
for the farm was an old-fashioned one and
had only the most primitive machinery), and
they listened in astonishment while
Snowball conjured up pictures of fantastic
machines which would do their work for
them while they grazed at their ease in the
fields or improved their minds with reading
and conversation.

Within a few weeks Snowball's plans for the
windmill were fully worked out. The
mechanical details came mostly from three
books which had belonged to Mr. Jones
One Thousand Useful Things to Do About
the House, Every Man His Own Bricklayer,
and Electricity for Beginners. Snowball
used as his study a shed which had once
been used for incubators and had a smooth
wooden floor, suitable for drawing on. He
was closeted there for hours at a time. With
his books held open by a stone, and with a
piece of chalk gripped between the
knuckles of his trotter, he would move
rapidly to and fro, drawing in line after line
and uttering little whimpers of excitement.
Gradually the plans grew into a complicated
mass of cranks and cog-wheels, covering
more than half the floor, which the other
animals found completely unintelligible but
very impressive. All of them came to look at
Snowball's drawings at least once a day.
Even the hens and ducks came, and were
at pains not to tread on the chalk marks.
Only Napoleon held aloof. He had declared
himself against the windmill from the start.
One day, however, he arrived unexpectedly
to examine the plans. He walked heavily

-17-

the animals on the neighbouring farms more
restive than ever. As usual, Snowball and
Napoleon were in disagreement. According
to Napoleon, what the animals must do was
to procure firearms and train themselves in
the use of them. According to Snowball,
they must send out more and more pigeons
and stir up rebellion among the animals on
the other farms. The one argued that if they
could not defend themselves they were
bound to be conquered, the other argued
that if rebellions happened everywhere they
would have no need to defend themselves.
The animals listened first to Napoleon, then
to Snowball, and could not make up their
minds which was right; indeed, they always
found themselves in agreement with the one
who was speaking at the moment.

At last the day came when Snowball's plans
were completed. At the Meeting on the
following Sunday the question of whether or
not to begin work on the windmill was to be
put to the vote. When the animals had
assembled in the big barn, Snowball stood
up and, though occasionally interrupted by
bleating from the sheep, set forth his
reasons for advocating the building of the
windmill. Then Napoleon stood up to reply.
He said very quietly that the windmill was
nonsense and that he advised nobody to
vote for it, and promptly sat down again; he
had spoken for barely thirty seconds, and
seemed almost indifferent as to the effect
he produced. At this Snowball sprang to his
feet, and shouting down the sheep, who
had begun bleating again, broke into a
passionate appeal in favour of the windmill.
Until now the animals had been about
equally divided in their sympathies, but in a
moment Snowball's eloquence had carried
them away. In glowing sentences he
painted a picture of Animal Farm as it might
be when sordid labour was lifted from the
animals' backs. His imagination had now
run far beyond chaff-cutters and turnip-

-18-

to Napoleon. It was noticed that they
wagged their tails to him in the same way as
the other dogs had been used to do to Mr.
Jones.

Napoleon, with the dogs following him, now
mounted on to the raised portion of the floor
where Major had previously stood to deliver
his speech. He announced that from now on
the Sunday-morning Meetings would come
to an end. They were unnecessary, he said,
and wasted time. In future all questions
relating to the working of the farm would be
settled by a special committee of pigs,
presided over by himself. These would
meet in private and afterwards
communicate their decisions to the others.
The animals would still assemble on
Sunday mornings to salute the flag, sing
'Beasts of England', and receive their
orders for the week; but there would be no
more debates.

In spite of the shock that Snowball's
expulsion had given them, the animals were
dismayed by this announcement. Several of
them would have protested if they could
have found the right arguments. Even Boxer
was vaguely troubled. He set his ears back,
shook his forelock several times, and tried
hard to marshal his thoughts; but in the end
he could not think of anything to say. Some
of the pigs themselves, however, were
more articulate. Four young porkers in the
front row uttered shrill squeals of
disapproval, and all four of them sprang to
their feet and began speaking at once. But
suddenly the dogs sitting round Napoleon
let out deep, menacing growls, and the pigs
fell silent and sat down again. Then the
sheep broke out into a tremendous bleating
of 'Four legs good, two legs bad!' which
went on for nearly a quarter of an hour and
put an end to any chance of discussion.

Afterwards Squealer was sent round the

-19-

By this time the weather had broken and the
spring ploughing had begun. The shed
where Snowball had drawn his plans of the
windmill had been shut up and it was
assumed that the plans had been rubbed off
the floor. Every Sunday morning at ten
o'clock the animals assembled in the big
barn to receive their orders for the week.
The skull of old Major, now clean of flesh,
had been disinterred from the orchard and
set up on a stump at the foot of the flagstaff,
beside the gun. After the hoisting of the flag,
the animals were required to file past the
skull in a reverent manner before entering
the barn. Nowadays they did not sit all
together as they had done in the past.
Napoleon, with Squealer and another pig
named Minimus, who had a remarkable gift
for composing songs and poems, sat on the
front of the raised platform, with the nine
young dogs forming a semicircle round
them, and the other pigs sitting behind. The
rest of the animals sat facing them in the
main body of the barn. Napoleon read out
the orders for the week in a gruff soldierly
style, and after a single singing of 'Beasts
of England', all the animals dispersed.

On the third Sunday after Snowball's
expulsion, the animals were somewhat
surprised to hear Napoleon announce that
the windmill was to be built after all. He did
not give any reason for having changed his
mind, but merely warned the animals that
this extra task would mean very hard work, it
might even be necessary to reduce their
rations. The plans, however, had all been
prepared, down to the last detail. A special
committee of pigs had been at work upon
them for the past three weeks. The building
of the windmill, with various other
improvements, was expected to take two
years.

That evening Squealer explained privately
to the other animals that Napoleon had

-20-

successful than in the previous year, and
two fields which should have been sown
with roots in the early summer were not
sown because the ploughing had not been
completed early enough. It was possible to
foresee that the coming winter would be a
hard one.

The windmill presented unexpected
difficulties. There was a good quarry of
limestone on the farm, and plenty of sand
and cement had been found in one of the
outhouses, so that all the materials for
building were at hand. But the problem the
animals could not at first solve was how to
break up the stone into pieces of suitable
size. There seemed no way of doing this
except with picks and crowbars, which no
animal could use, because no animal could
stand on his hind legs. Only after weeks of
vain effort d id the right idea occur to
somebody namely, to utilise the force of
gravity. Huge boulders, far too big to be
used as they were, were lying all over the
bed of the quarry. The animals lashed ropes
round these, and then all together, cows,
horses, sheep, any animal that could lay
hold of the rope even the pigs sometimes
joined in at critical moments they dragged
them with desperate slowness up the slope
to the top of the quarry, where they were
toppled over the edge, to shatter to pieces
below. Transporting the stone when it was
once broken was comparatively simple.
The horses carried it off in cart-loads, the
sheep dragged single blocks, even Muriel
and Benjamin yoked themselves into an old
governess-cart and did their share. By late
summer a sufficient store of stone had
accumulated, and then the building began,
under the superintendence of the pigs.

But it was a slow, laborious process.
Frequently it took a whole day of exhausting
effort to drag a single boulder to the top of
the quarry, and sometimes when it was

-21-

on, various unforeseen shortages began to
make them selves felt. There was need of
paraffin oil, nails, string, dog biscuits, and
iron for the horses' shoes, none of which
could be produced on the farm. Later there
would also be need for seeds and artificial
manures, besides various tools and, finally,
the machinery for the windmill. How these
were to be procured, no one was able to
imagine.

One Sunday morning, when the animals
assembled to receive their orders,
Napoleon announced that he had decided
upon a new policy. From now onwards
Animal Farm would engage in trade with the
neighbouring farms: not, of course, for any
commercial purpose, but simply in order to
obtain certain materials which were urgently
necessary. The needs of the windmill must
override everything else, he said. He was
therefore making arrangements to sell a
stack of hay and part of the current year's
wheat crop, and later on, if more money
were needed, it would have to be made up
by the sale of eggs, for which there was
always a market in Willingdon. The hens,
said Napoleon, should welcome this
sacrifice as their own special contribution
towards the building of the windmill.

Once again the animals were conscious of
a vague uneasiness. Never to have any
dealings with human beings, never to
engage in trade, never to make use of
money had not these been among the
earliest resolutions passed at that first
triumphant Meeting after Jones was
expelled? All the animals remembered
passing such resolutions: or at least they
thought that they remembered it. The four
young pigs who had protested when
Napoleon abolished the Meetings raised
their voices timidly, but they were promptly
silenced by a tremendous growling from the
dogs. Then, as usual, the sheep broke into

-22-

Nevertheless, the sight of Napoleon, on all
fours, delivering orders to Whymper, who
stood on two legs, roused their pride and
partly reconciled them to the new
arrangement. Their relations with the human
race were now not quite the same as they
had been before. The human beings did not
hate Animal Farm any less now that it was
prospering; indeed, they hated it more than
ever. Every human being held it as an article
of faith that the farm would go bankrupt
sooner or later, and, above all, that the
windmill would be a failure. They would
meet in the public-houses and prove to one
another by means of diagrams that the
windmill was bound to fall down, or that if it
did stand up, then that it would never work.
And yet, against their will, they had
developed a certain respect for the
efficiency with which the animals were
managing their own affairs. One symptom
of this was that they had begun to call
Animal Farm by its proper name and
ceased to pretend that it was called the
Manor Farm. They had also dropped their
championship of Jones, who had given up
hope of getting his farm back and gone to
live in another part of the county. Except
through Whymper, there was as yet no
contact between Animal Farm and the
outside world, but there were constant
rumours that Napoleon was about to enter
into a definite business agreement either
with Mr. Pilkington of Foxwood or with Mr.
Frederick of Pinchfield but never, it was
noticed, with both simultaneously.

It was about this time that the pigs suddenly
moved into the farmhouse and took up their
residence there. Again the animals seemed
to remember that a resolution against this
had been passed in the early days, and
again Squealer was able to convince them
that this was not the case. It was absolutely
necessary, he said, that the pigs, who were
the brains of the farm, should have a quiet

-23-

blankets. And very comfortable beds they
are too! But not more comfortable than we
need, I can t ell you, comrades, with all the
brainwork we have to do nowadays. You
would not rob us of our repose, would you,
comrades? You would not have us too tired
to carry out our duties? Surely none of you
wishes to see Jones back?'

The animals reassured him on this point
immediately, and no more was said about
the pigs sleeping in the farmhouse beds.
And when, some days afterwards, it was
announced that from now on the pigs would
get up an hour later in the mornings than the
other animals, no complaint was made
about that either.

By the autumn the animals were tired but
happy. They had had a hard year, and after
the sale of part of the hay and corn, the
stores of food for the winter were none too
plentiful, but the windmill compensated for
everything. It was almost half built now. After
the harvest there was a stretch of clear dry
weather, and the animals toiled harder than
ever, thinking it well worth while to plod to
and fro all day with blocks of stone if by
doing so they could raise the walls another
foot. Boxer would even come out at nights
and work for an hour or two on his own by
the light of the harvest moon. In their spare
moments the animals would walk round and
round the half-finished mill, admiring the
strength and perpendicularity of its walls
and marvelling that they should ever have
been able to build anything so imposing.
Only old Benjamin refused to grow
enthusiastic about the windmill, though, as
usual, he would utter nothing beyond the
cryptic remark that donkeys live a long time.

November came, with raging south-west
winds. Building had to stop because it was
now too wet to mix the cement. Finally there
came a night when the gale was so violent

-24-

The animals were shocked beyond
measure to learn that even Snowball could
be guilty of such an action. There was a cry
of indignation, and everyone began thinking
out ways of catching Snowball if he should
ever come back. Almost immediately the
footprints of a pig were discovered in the
grass at a little distance from the knoll. They
could only be traced for a few yards, but
appeared to lead to a hole in the hedge.
Napoleon snuffed deeply at them and
pronounced them to be Snowball's. He
gave it as his opinion that Snowball had
probably come from the direction of
Foxwood Farm.

'No more delays, comrades!' cried
Napoleon when the footprints had been
examined. 'There is work to be done. This
very morning we begin rebuilding the
windmill, and we will build all through the
winter, rain or shine. We will teach this
miserable traitor that he cannot undo our
work so easily. Remember, comrades,
there must be no alteration in our plans: they
shall be carried out to the day. Forward,
comrades! Long live the windmill! Long live
Animal Farm!'

Chapter 7

IT WAS A BITTER WINTER. The stormy
weather was followed by sleet and snow,
and then by a hard frost which did not break
till well into February. The animals carried
on as best they could with the rebuilding of
the windmill, well knowing that the outside
world was watching them and that the
envious human beings would rejoice and
triumph if the mill were not finished on time.

Out of spite, the human beings pretended
not to believe that it was Snowball who had
destroyer the windmill: they said that it had
fallen down because the walls were too thin.
The animals knew that this was not the

-25-

his weekly visits: now, however, a few
selected animals, mostly sheep, were
instructed to remark casually in his hearing
that rations had been increased. In addition,
Napoleon ordered the almost empty bins in
the store-shed to be filled nearly to the brim
with sand, which was then covered up with
what remained of the grain and meal. On
some suitable pretext Whymper was led
through the store-shed and allowed to catch
a glimpse of the bins. He was deceived,
and continued to report to the outside world
that there was no food shortage on Animal
Farm.

Nevertheless, towards the end of January it
became obvious that it would be necessary
to procure some more grain from
somewhere. In these days Napoleon rarely
appeared in public, but spent all his time in
the farmhouse, which was guarded at each
door by fierce-looking dogs. When he did
emerge, it was in a ceremonial manner,
with an escort of six dogs who closely
surrounded him and growled if anyone
came too near. Frequently he did not even
appear on Sunday mornings, but issued his
orders through one of the other pigs, usually
Squealer.

One Sunday morning Squealer announced
that the hens, who had just come in to lay
again, must surrender their eggs. Napoleon
had accepted, through Whymper, a contract
for four hundred eggs a week. The price of
these would pay for enough grain and meal
to keep the farm going till summer came on
and conditions were easier.

When the hens heard this, they raised a
terrible outcry. They had been warned
earlier that this sacrifice might be
necessary, but had not believed that it
would really happen. They were just getting
their clutches ready for the spring sitting,
and they protested that to take the eggs

-26-

thing was discovered. Snowball was
secretly frequenting the farm by night! The
animals were so disturbed that they could
hardly sleep in their stalls. Every night, it
was said, he came creeping in under cover
of darkness and performed all kinds of
mischief. He stole the corn, he upset the
milk-pails, he broke the eggs, he trampled
the seedbeds, he gnawed the bark off the
fruit trees. Whenever anything went wrong it
became usual to attribute it to Snowball. If a
window was broken or a drain was blocked
up, someone was certain to say that
Snowball had come in the night and done it,
and when the key of the store-shed was
lost, the whole farm was convinced that
Snowball had thrown it down the well.
Curiously enough, they went on believing
this even after the mislaid key was found
under a sack of meal. The cows declared
unanimously that Snowball crept into their
stalls and milked them in their sleep. The
rats, which had been troublesome that
winter, were also said to be in league with
Snowball.

Napoleon decreed that there should be a full
investigation into Snowball's activities. With
his dogs in attendance he set out and made
a careful tour of inspection of the farm
buildings, the other animals following at a
respectful distance. At every few steps
Napoleon stopped and snuffed the ground
for traces of Snowball's footsteps, which,
he said, he could detect by the smell. He
snuffed in every corner, in the barn, in the
cow-shed, in the henhouses, in the
vegetable garden, and found traces of
Snowball almost everywhere. He would put
his snout to the ground, give several deep
sniffs, ad exclaim in a terrible voice,
'Snowball! He has been here! I can smell
him distinctly!' and at the word 'Snowball'
all the dogs let out blood-curdling growls
and showed their side teeth.

-27-

tucked his fore hoofs beneath him, shut his
eyes, and with a hard effort managed to
formulate his thoughts.

'I do not believe that,' he said. 'Snowball
fought bravely at the Battle of the Cowshed.
I saw him myself. Did we not give him
'Animal Hero, first Class,' immediately
afterwards?'

'That was our mistake, comrade. For we
know now it is all written down in the secret
documents that we have found that in reality
he was trying to lure us to our doom.'

'But he was wounded,' said Boxer. 'We all
saw him running with blood.'

'That was part of the arrangement!' cried
Squealer. 'Jones's shot only grazed him. I
could show you this in his own writing, if you
were able to read it. The plot was for
Snowball, at the critical moment, to give the
signal for flight and leave the field to the
enemy. And he very nearly succeeded I will
even say, comrades, he would have
succeeded if it had not been for our heroic
Leader, Comrade Napoleon. Do you not
remember how, just at the moment when
Jones and his men had got inside the yard,
Snowball suddenly turned and fled, and
many animals followed him? And do you not
remember, too, that it was just at that
moment, when panic was spreading and all
seemed lost, that Comrade Napoleon
sprang forward with a cry of 'Death to
Humanity!' and sank his teeth in Jones's
leg? Surely you remember that,
comrades?' exclaimed Squealer, frisking
from side to side.

Now when Squealer described the scene
so graphically, it seemed to the animals that
they did remember it. At any rate, they
remembered that at the critical moment of
the battle Snowball had turned to flee. But

-28-

whimper. Immediately the dogs bounded
forward, seized four of the pigs by the ear
and dragged them, squealing with pain and
terror, to Napoleon's feet. The pigs' ears
were bleeding, the dogs had tasted blood,
and for a few moments they appeared to go
quite mad. To the amazement of everybody,
three of them flung themselves upon Boxer.
Boxer saw them coming and put out his
great hoof, caught a dog in mid-air, and
pinned him to the ground. The dog shrieked
for mercy and the other two fled with their
tails between their legs. Boxer looked at
Napoleon to know whether he should crush
the dog to death or let it go. Napoleon
appeared to change countenance, and
sharply ordered Boxer to let the dog go,
whereat Boxer lifted his hoof, and the dog
slunk away, bruised and howling.

Presently the tumult died down. The four
pigs waited, trembling, with guilt written on
every line of their countenances. Napoleon
now called upon them to confess their
crimes. They were the same four pigs as
had protested when Napoleon abolished
the Sunday Meetings. Without any further
prompting they confessed that they had
been secretly in touch with Snowball ever
since his expulsion, that they had
collaborated with him in destroying the
windmill, and that they had entered into an
agreement with him to hand over Animal
Farm to Mr. Frederick. They added that
Snowball had privately admitted to them
that he had been Jones's secret agent for
years past. When they had finished their
confession, the dogs promptly tore their
throats out, and in a terrible voice Napoleon
demanded whether any other animal had
anything to confess.

The three hens who had been the
ringleaders in the attempted rebellion over
the eggs now came forward and stated that
Snowball had appeared to them in a dream

-29-

occasionally uttering a little whinny of
surprise. Finally he said:

'I do not understand it. I would not have
believed that such things could happen on
our farm. It must be due to some fault in
ourselves. The solution, as I see it, is to
work harder. From now onwards I shall get
up a full hour earlier in the mornings.'

And he moved off at his lumbering trot and
made for the quarry. Having got there, he
collected two successive loads of stone
and dragged them down to the windmill
before retiring for the night.

The animals huddled about Clover, not
speaking. The knoll where they were lying
gave them a wide prospect across the
countryside. Most of Animal Farm was
within their view the long pasture stretching
down to the main road, the hayfield, the
spinney, the drinking pool, the ploughed
fields where the young wheat was thick and
green, and the red roofs of the farm
buildings with the smoke curling from the
chimneys. It was a clear spring evening. The
grass and the bursting hedges were gilded
by the level rays of the sun. Never had the
farm and with a kind of surprise they
remembered that it was their own farm,
every inch of it their own property appeared
to the animals so desirable a place. As
Clover looked down the hillside her eyes
filled with tears. If she could have spoken
her thoughts, it would have been to say that
this was not what they had aimed at when
they had set themselves years ago to work
for the overthrow of the human race. These
scenes of terror and slaughter were not
what they had looked forward to on that
night when old Major first stirred them to
rebellion. If she herself had had any picture
of the future, it had been of a society of
animals set free from hunger and the whip,
all equal, each working according to his

-30-

'It's no longer needed, comrade,' said
Squealer stiffly. ' "Beasts of England" was
the song of the Rebellion. But the Rebellion
is now completed. The execution of the
traitors this afternoon was the final act. The
enemy both external and internal has been
defeated. In 'Beasts of England' we
expressed our longing for a better society in
days to come. But that society has now
been established. Clearly this song has no
longer any purpose.'

Frightened though they were, some of the
animals might possibly have protested, but
at this moment the sheep set up their usual
bleating of 'Four legs good, two legs bad,'
which went on for several minutes and put
an end to the discussion.

So 'Beasts of England' was heard no more.
In its place Minimus, the poet, had
composed another song which began:

Animal Farm, Animal Farm,

Never through me shalt thou come to harm!

and this was sung every Sunday morning
after the hoisting of the flag. But somehow
neither the words nor the tune ever seemed
to the animals to come up to 'Beasts of
England'.

Chapter 8

A FEW DAYS LATER, when the terror
caused by the executions had died down,
some of the animals remembered or
thought they remembered that the Sixth
Commandment decreed 'No animal shall
kill any other animal.' And though no one
cared to mention it in the hearing of the pigs
or the dogs, it was felt that the killings which
had taken place did not square with this.
Clover asked Benjamin to read her the
Sixth Commandment, and when Benjamin,

-31-

inhabited separate apartments from the
others. He took his meals alone, with two
dogs to wait upon him, and always ate from
the Crown Derby dinner service which had
been in the glass cupboard in the drawing-
room. It was also announced that the gun
would be fired every year on Napoleon's
birthday, as well as on the other two
anniversaries.

Napoleon was now never spoken of simply
as 'Napoleon.' He was always referred to in
formal style as 'our Leader, Comrade
Napoleon,' and this pigs liked to invent for
him such titles as Father of All Animals,
Terror of Mankind, Protector of the Sheep-
fold, Ducklings' Friend, and the like. In his
speeches, Squealer would talk with the
tears rolling down his cheeks of Napoleon's
wisdom the goodness of his heart, and the
deep love he bore to all animals
everywhere, even and especially the
unhappy animals who still lived in ignorance
and slavery on other farms. It had become
usual to give Napoleon the credit for every
successful achievement and every stroke of
good fortune. You would often hear one hen
remark to another, 'Under the guidance of
our Leader, Comrade Napoleon, I have laid
five eggs in six days'; or two cows,
enjoying a drink at the pool, would exclaim,
'Thanks to the leadership of Comrade
Napoleon, how excellent this water tastes!'
The general feeling on the farm was well
expressed in a poem entitled 'Comrade
Napoleon', which was composed by
Minimus and which ran as follows:


Friend of fatherless!
Fountain of happiness!
Lord of the swill-bucket! Oh, how my soul is
on
Fire when I gaze at thy
Calm and commanding eye,
Like the sun in the sky,

-32-

was given the task of tasting all his food
before he ate it, lest it should be poisoned.

At about the same time it was given out that
Napoleon had arranged to sell the pile of
timber to Mr. Pilkington; he was also going
to enter into a regular agreement for the
exchange of certain products between
Animal Farm and Foxwood. The relations
between Napoleon and Pilkington, though
they were only conducted through Whymper,
were now almost friendly. The animals
distrusted Pilkington, as a human being, but
greatly preferred him to Frederick, whom
they both feared and hated. As the summer
wore on, an d the windmill neared
completion, the rumours of an impending
treacherous attack grew stronger and
stronger. Frederick, it was said, intended to
bring against them twenty men all armed
with guns, and he had already bribed the
magistrates and police, so that if he could
once get hold of the title-deeds of Animal
Farm they would ask no questions.
Moreover, terrible stories were leaking out
from Pinchfield about the cruelties that
Frederick practised upon his animals. He
had flogged an old horse to death, he
starved his cows, he had killed a dog by
throwing it into the furnace, he amused
himself in the evenings by making cocks
fight with splinters of razor-blade tied to
their spurs. The animals' blood boiled with
rage when they heard of these things being
done to their comrades, and sometimes
they clamoured to be allowed to go out in a
body and attack Pinchfield Farm, drive out
the humans, and set the animals free. But
Squealer counselled them to avoid rash
actions and trust in Comrade Napoleon's
strategy.

Nevertheless, feeling against Frederick
continued to run high. One Sunday morning
Napoleon appeared in the barn and
explained that he had never at any time

-33-

been built the first time. Moreover, the walls
were twice as thick as before. Nothing short
of explosives would lay them low this time!
And when they thought of how they had
laboured, what discouragements they had
overcome, and the enormous difference
that would be made in their lives when the
sails were turning and the dynamos running
when they thought of all this, their tiredness
forsook them and they gambolled round and
round the win dmill, uttering cries of triumph.
Napoleon himself, attended by his dogs
and his cockerel, came down to inspect the
completed work; he personally
congratulated the animals on their
achievement, and announced that the mill
would be named Napoleon Mill.

Two days later the animals were called
together for a special meeting in the barn.
They were struck dumb with surprise when
Napoleon announced that he had sold the
pile of timber to Frederick. Tomorrow
Frederick's wagons would arrive and begin
carting it away. Throughout the whole
period of his seeming friendship with
Pilkington, Napoleon had really been in
secret agreement with Frederick.

All relations with Foxwood had been broken
off; insulting messages had been sent to
Pilkington. The pigeons had been told to
avoid Pinchfield Farm and to alter their
slogan from 'Death to Frederick' to 'Death
to Pilkington.' At the same time Napoleon
assured the animals that the stories of an
impending attack on Animal Farm were
completely untrue, and that the tales about
Frederick's cruelty to his own animals had
been greatly exaggerated. All these
rumours had probably originated with
Snowball and his agents. It now appeared
that Snowball was not, after all, hiding on
Pinchfield Farm, and in fact had never been
there in his life: he was living in
considerable luxury, so it was said at

-34-

Napoleon called the animals together
immediately and in a terrible voice
pronounced the death sentence upon
Frederick. When captured, he said,
Frederick should be boiled alive. At the
same time he warned them that after this
treacherous deed the worst was to be
expected. Frederick and his men might
make their long-expected attack at any
moment. Sentinels were placed at all the
approaches to the farm. In addition, four
pigeons were sent to Foxwood with a
conciliatory message, which it was hoped
might re establish good relations with
Pilkington.

The very next morning the attack came. The
animals were at breakfast when the look-
outs came racing in with the news that
Frederick and his followers had already
come through the five-barred gate. Boldly
enough the animals sallied forth to meet
them, but this time they did not have the
easy victory that they had had in the Battle of
the Cowshed. There were fifteen men, with
half a dozen guns between them, and they
opened fire as soon as they got within fifty
yards. The animals could not face the
terrible explosions and the stinging pellets,
and in spite of the efforts of Napoleon and
Boxer to rally them, they were soon driven
back. A number of them were already
wounded. They took refuge in the farm
buildings and peeped cautiously out from
chinks and knot-holes. The whole of the big
pasture, including the windmill, was in the
hands of the enemy. For the moment even
Napoleon seemed at a loss. He paced up
and down without a word, his tail rigid and
twitching. Wistful glances were sent in the
direction of Fox wood. If Pilkington and his
men would help them, the day might yet be
won. But at this moment the four pigeons,
who had been sent out on the day before,
returned, one of them bearing a scrap of
paper from Pilkington. On it was pencilled

-35-

in a body and made straight for the enemy.
This time they did not heed the cruel pellets
that swept over them like hail. It was a
savage, bitter battle. The men fired again
and again, and, when the animals got to
close quarters, lashed out with their sticks
and their heavy boots. A cow, three sheep,
and two geese were killed, and nearly
everyone was wounded. Even Napoleon,
who was directing operations from the rear,
had the tip of his tail chipped by a pellet. But
the men did not go unscathed either. Three
of them had their heads broken by blows
from Boxer's hoofs; another was gored in
the belly by a cow's horn; another had his
trousers nearly torn off by Jessie and
Bluebell. And when the nine dogs of
Napoleon's own bodyguard, whom he had
instructed to make a detour under cover of
the hedge, suddenly appeared on the
men's flank, baying ferociously, panic
overtook them. They saw that they were in
danger of being surrounded. Frederick
shouted to his men to get out while the going
was good, and the next moment the
cowardly enemy was running for dear life.
The animals chased them right down to the
bottom of the field, and got in some last
kicks at them as they forced their way
through the thorn hedge.

They had won, but they were weary and
bleeding. Slowly they began to limp back
towards the farm. The sight of their dead
comrades stretched upon the grass moved
some of them to tears. And for a little while
they halted in sorrowful silence at the place
where the windmill had once stood. Yes, it
was gone; almost the last trace of their
labour was gone! Even the foundations
were partially destroyed. And in rebuilding it
they could not this time, as before, make
use of the fallen stones. This time the stones
had vanished too. The force of the
explosion had flung them to distances of
hundreds of yards. It was as though the

-36-

time it occurred to him that he was eleven
years old and that perhaps his great
muscles were not quite what they had once
been.

But when the animals saw the green flag
flying, and heard the gun firing again seven
times it was fired in all and heard the
speech that Napoleon made, congratulating
them on their conduct, it did seem to them
after all that they had won a great victory.
The animals slain in the battle were given a
solemn funeral. Boxer and Clover pulled the
wagon which served as a hearse, and
Napoleon himself walked at the head of the
procession. Two whole days were given
over to celebrations. There were songs,
speeches, and more firing of the gun, and a
special gift of an apple was bestowed on
every animal, with two ounces of corn for
each bird and three biscuits for each dog. It
was announced that the battle would be
called the Battle of the Windmill, and that
Napoleon had created a new decoration,
the Order of the Green Banner, which he
had conferred upon himself. In the general
rejoicings the unfortunate affair of the
banknotes was forgotten.

It was a few days later than this that the pigs
came upon a case of whisky in the cellars of
the farmhouse. It had been overlooked at
the time when the house was first occupied.
That night there came from the farmhouse
the sound of loud singing, in which, to
everyone's surprise, the strains of 'Beasts
of England' were mixed up. At about half
past nine Napoleon, wearing an old bowler
hat of Mr. Jones's, was distinctly seen to
emerge from the back door, gallop rapidly
round the yard, and disappear in doors
again. But in the morning a deep silence
hung over the farmhouse. Not a pig
appeared to be stirring. It was nearly nine
o'clock when Squealer made his
appearance, walking slowly and

-37-

was a moonlit night. At the foot of the end
wall of the big barn, where the Seven
Commandments were written, there lay a
ladder broken in two pieces. Squealer,
temporarily stunned, was sprawling beside
it, and near at hand there lay a lantern, a
paint-brush, and an overturned pot of white
paint. The dogs immediately made a ring
round Squealer, and escorted him back to
the farmhouse as soon as he was able to
walk. None of the animals could form any
idea as to what this meant, except old
Benjamin, who nodded his muzzle with a
knowing air, and seemed to understand,
but would say nothing.

But a few days later Muriel, reading over the
Seven Commandments to herself, noticed
that there was yet another of them which the
animals had remembered wrong. They had
thought the Fifth Commandment was 'No
animal shall drink alcohol,' but there were
two words that they had forgotten. Actually
the Commandment read: 'No animal shall
drink alcohol to excess.'

Chapter 9

BOXER'S SPLIT HOOF was a long time in
healing. They had started the rebuilding of
the windmill the day after the victory
celebrations were ended Boxer refused to
take even a day off work, and made it a
point of honour not to let it be seen that he
was in pain. In the evenings he would admit
privately to Clover that the hoof troubled him
a great deal. Clover treated the hoof with
poultices of herbs which she prepared by
chewing them, and both she and Benjamin
urged Boxer to work less hard. 'A horse's
lungs do not last for ever,' she said to him.
But Boxer would not listen. He had, he said,
only one real ambition left to see the
windmill well under way before he reached
the age for retirement.

-38-

their stalls and suffered less from fleas. The
animals believed every word of it. Truth to
tell, Jones and all he stood for had almost
faded out of their memories. They knew that
life nowadays was harsh and bare, that they
were often hungry and often cold, and that
they were usually working when they were
not asleep. But doubtless it had been worse
in the old days. They were glad to believe
so. Besides, in those days they had been
slaves and now they were free, and that
made all the difference, as Squealer did not
fail to point out.

There were many more mouths to feed now.
In the autumn the four sows had all littered
about simultaneously, producing thirty-one
young pigs between them. The young pigs
were piebald, and as Napoleon was the
only boar on the farm, it was possible to
guess at their parentage. It was announced
that later, when bricks and timber had been
purchased, a schoolroom would be built in
the farmhouse garden. For the time being,
the young pigs were given their instruction
by Napoleon himself in the farmhouse
kitchen . They took their exercise in the
garden, and were discouraged from
playing with the other young animals. About
this time, too, it was laid down as a rule that
when a pig and any other animal met on the
path, the other animal must stand aside:
and also that all pigs, of whatever degree,
were to have the privilege of wearing green
ribbons on their tails on Sundays.

The farm had had a fairly successful year,
but was still short of money. There were the
bricks, sand, and lime for the schoolroom to
be purchased, and it would also be
necessary to begin saving up again for the
machinery for the windmill. Then there were
lamp oil and candles for the house, sugar
for Napoleon's own table (he forbade this to
the other pigs, on the ground that it made
them fat), and all the usual replacements

-39-

then the horses, then the cows, then the
sheep, and then the poultry. The dogs
flanked the procession and at the head of all
marched Napoleon's black cockerel. Boxer
and Clover always carried between them a
green banner marked with the hoof and the
horn and the caption, 'Long live Comrade
Napoleon! ' Afterwards there were
recitations of poems composed in
Napoleon's honour, and a speech by
Squealer giving particulars of the latest
increases in the production of foodstuffs,
and on occasion a shot was fired from the
gun. The sheep were the greatest devotees
of the Spontaneous Demonstration, and if
anyone complained (as a few animals
sometimes did, when no pigs or dogs were
near) that they wasted time and meant a lot
of standing about in the cold, the sheep
were sure to silence him with a tremendous
bleating of 'Four legs good, two legs bad!'
But by and large the animals enjoyed these
celebrations. They found it comforting to be
reminded that, after all, they were truly their
own masters and that the work they did was
for their own benefit. So that, what with the
songs, the processions, Squealer's lists of
figures, the thunder of the gun, the crowing
of the cockerel, and the fluttering of the flag,
they were able to forget that their bellies
were empty, at least part of the time.

In April, Animal Farm was proclaimed a
Republic, and it became necessary to elect
a President. There was only one candidate,
Napoleon, who was elected unanimously.
On the same day it was given out that fresh
documents had been discovered which
revealed further details about Snowball's
complicity with Jones. It now appeared that
Snowball had not, as the animals had
previously imagined, merely attempted to
lose the Battle of the Cowshed by means of
a stratagem, but had been openly fighting
on Jones's side . In fact, it was he who had
actually been the leader of the human

-40-

was not what it had been. It was only his
appearance that was a little altered; his
hide was less shiny than it had used to be,
and his great haunches seemed to have
shrunken. The others said, 'Boxer will pick
up when the spring grass comes on'; but the
spring came and Boxer grew no fatter.
Sometimes on the slope leading to the top
of the quarry, when he braced his muscles
against the weight of some vast boulder, it
seemed that nothing kept him on his feet
except the will to continue. At such times his
lips were seen to form the words, 'I will
work harder'; he had no voice left. Once
again Clover and Benjamin warned him to
take care of his health, but Boxer paid no
attention. His twelfth birthday was
approaching. He did not care what
happened so long as a good store of stone
was accumulated before he went on
pension.

Late one evening in the summer, a sudden
rumour ran round the farm that something
had happened to Boxer. He had gone out
alone to drag a load of stone down to the
windmill. And sure enough, the rumour was
true. A few minutes later two pigeons came
racing in with the news: 'Boxer has fallen!
He is lying on his side and can't get up!'

About half the animals on the farm rushed
out to the knoll where the windmill stood.
There lay Boxer, between the shafts of the
cart, his neck stretched out, unable even to
raise his head. His eyes were glazed, his
sides matted with sweat. A thin stream of
blood had trickled out of his mouth. Clover
dropped to her knees at his side.

'Boxer!' she cried, 'how are you?'

'It is my lung,' said Boxer in a weak voice. 'It
does not matter. I think you will be able to
finish the windmill without me. There is a
pretty good store of stone accumulated. I

-41-

off him. Boxer professed not to be sorry for
what had happened. If he made a good
recovery, he might expect to live another
three years, and he looked forward to the
peaceful days that he would spend in the
corner of the big pasture. It would be the first
time that he had had leisure to study and
improve his mind. He intended, he said, to
devote the rest of his life to learning the
remaining twenty-two letters of the
alphabet.

However, Benjamin and Clover could only
be with Boxer after working hours, and it
was in the middle of the day when the van
came to take him away. The animals were
all at work weeding turnips under the
supervision of a pig, when they were
astonished to see Benjamin come
galloping from the direction of the farm
buildings, braying at the top of his voice. It
was the first time that they had ever seen
Benjamin excited indeed, it was the first
time that anyone had ever seen him gallop.
'Quick, quick!' he shouted. 'Come at once!
They're taking Boxer away!' Without waiting
for orders from the pig, the animals broke
off work and raced back to the farm
buildings. Sure enough, there in the yard
was a large closed van, drawn by two
horses, with lettering on its side and a sly-
looking man in a low-crowned bowler hat
sitting on the driver's seat. And Boxer's stall
was empty.

The animals crowded round the van. 'Good-
bye, Boxer!' they chorused, 'good-bye!'

'Fools! Fools!' shouted Benjamin,
prancing round them and stamping the earth
with his small hoofs. 'Fools! Do you not see
what is written on the side of that van?'

That gave the animals pause, and there
was a hush. Muriel began to spell out the
words. But Benjamin pushed her aside and

-42-

to realise what was happening, merely set
back their ears and quickened their pace.
Boxer's face did not reappear at the
window. Too late, someone thought of
racing ahead and shutting the five-barred
gate; but in another moment the van was
through it and rapidly disappearing down
the road. Boxer was never seen again.

Three days later it was announced that he
had died in the hospital at Willingdon, in
spite of receiving every attention a horse
could have. Squealer came to announce the
news to the others. He had, he said, been
present during Boxer's last hours.

'It was the most affecting sight I have ever
seen!' said Squealer, lifting his trotter and
wiping away a tear. 'I was at his bedside at
the very last. And at the end, almost too
weak to speak, he whispered in my ear that
his sole sorrow was to have passed on
before the windmill was finished. 'Forward,
comrades!' he whispered. 'Forward in the
name of the Rebellion. Long live Animal
Farm! Long live Comrade Napoleon!
Napoleon is always right.' Those were his
very last words, comrades.'

Here Squealer's demeanour suddenly
changed. He fell silent for a moment, and
his little eyes darted suspicious glances
from side to side before he proceeded.

It had come to his knowledge, he said, that
a foolish and wicked rumour had been
circulated at the time of Boxer's removal.
Some of the animals had noticed that the
van which took Boxer away was marked
'Horse Slaughterer,' and had actually
jumped to the conclusion that Boxer was
being sent to the knacker's. It was almost
unbelievable, said Squealer, that any
animal could be so stupid. Surely, he cried
indignantly, whisking his tail and skipping
from side to side, surely they knew their

-43-

following day, and the word went round that
from somewhere or other the pigs had
acquired the money to buy themselves
another case of whisky.

Chapter 10

YEARS PASSED. The seasons came and
went, the short animal lives fled by. A time
came when there was no one who
remembered the old days before the
Rebellion, except Clover, Benjamin,
Moses the raven, and a number of the pigs.

Muriel was dead; Bluebell, Jessie, and
Pincher were dead. Jones too was dead he
had died in an inebriates' home in another
part of the country. Snowball was forgotten.
Boxer was forgotten, except by the few who
had known him. Clover was an old stout
mare now, stiff in the joints and with a
tendency to rheumy eyes. She was two
years past the retiring age, but in fact no
animal had ever actually retired. The talk of
setting aside a corner of the pasture for
superannuated animals had long since
been dropped. Napoleon was now a
mature boar of twenty-four stone. Squealer
was so fat that he could with difficulty see
out of his eyes. Only old Benjamin was
much the same as ever, except for being a
little greyer about the muzzle, and, since
Boxer's death, more morose and taciturn
than ever.

There were many more creatures on the
farm now, though the increase was not so
great as had been expected in earlier years.
Many animals had been born to whom the
Rebellion was only a dim tradition, passed
on by word of mouth, and others had been
bought who had never heard mention of
such a thing before their arrival. The farm
possessed three horses now besides
Clover. They were fine upstanding beasts,
willing workers and good comrades, but

-44-

example, Squealer told them that the pigs
had to expend enormous labours every day
upon mysterious things called 'files,'
'reports,' 'minutes,' and 'memoranda.'
These were large sheets of paper which
had to be closely covered with writing, and
as soon as they were so covered, they were
burnt in the furnace. This was of the highest
importance for the welfare of the farm,
Squealer said. But still, neither pigs nor
dogs produced any food by their own
labour; and there were very many of them,
and their appetites were always good.

As for the others, their life, so far as they
knew, was as it had always been. They
were generally hungry, they slept on straw,
they drank from the pool, they laboured in
the fields; in winter they were troubled by
the cold, and in summer by the flies.
Sometimes the older ones among them
racked their dim memories and tried to
determine whether in the early days of the
Rebellion, when Jones's expulsion was still
recent, things had been better or worse than
now. They could not remember. There was
nothing with which they could compare their
present lives: they had nothing to go upon
except Squealer's lists of figures, which
invariably demonstrated that everything was
getting better and better. The animals found
the problem insoluble; in any case, they had
little time for speculating on such things
now. Only old Benjamin professed to
remember every detail of his long life and to
know that things never had been, nor ever
could be much better or much worse
hunger, hardship, and disappointment
being, so he said, the unalterable law of life.

And yet the animals never gave up hope.
More, they never lost, even for an instant,
their sense of honour and privilege in being
members of Animal Farm. They were still
the only farm in the whole county in all
England! owned and operated by animals.

-45-

nothing of them. Squealer was with them for
the greater part of every day. He was, he
said, teaching them to sing a new song, for
which privacy was needed.

It was just after the sheep had returned, on
a pleasant evening when the animals had
finished work and were making their way
back to the farm buildings, that the terrified
neighing of a horse sounded from the yard.
Startled, the animals stopped in their tracks.
It was Clover's voice. She neighed again,
and all the animals broke into a gallop and
rushed into the yard. Then they saw what
Clover had seen.

It was a pig walking on his hind legs.

Yes, it was Squealer. A little awkwardly, as
though not quite used to supporting his
considerable bulk in that position, but with
perfect balance, he was strolling across the
yard. And a moment later, out from the door
of the farmhouse came a long file of pigs,
all walking on their hind legs. Some did it
better than others, one or two were even a
trifle unsteady and looked as though they
would have liked the support of a stick, but
every one of them made his way right round
the yard successfully. And finally there was
a tremendous baying of dogs and a shrill
crowing from the black cockerel, and out
came Napoleon himself, majestically
upright, casting haughty glances from side
to side, and with his dogs gambolling round
him.

He carried a whip in his trotter.

There was a deadly silence. Amazed,
terrified, huddling together, the animals
watched the long line of pigs march slowly
round the yard. It was as though the world
had turned upside-down. Then there came
a moment when the first shock had worn off
and when, in spite of everything in spite of

-46-

THAN OTHERS

After that it did not seem strange when next
day the pigs who were supervising the work
of the farm all carried whips in their trotters.
It did not seem strange to learn that the pigs
had bought themselves a wireless set, were
arranging to install a telephone, and had
taken out subscriptions to John Bull, TitBits,
and the Daily Mirror. It did not seem strange
when Napoleon was seen strolling in the
farmhouse garden with a pipe in his mouth
no, not even when the pigs took Mr. Jones's
clothes out of the wardrobes and put them
on, Napoleon himself appearing in a black
coat, ratcatcher breeches, and leather
leggings, while his favourite sow appeared
in the watered silk dress which Mrs. Jones
had been used to wear on Sundays.

A week later, in the afternoon, a number of
dogcarts drove up to the farm. A deputation
of neighbouring farmers had been invited to
make a tour of inspection. They were shown
all over the farm, and expressed great
admiration for everything they saw,
especially the windmill. The animals were
weeding the turnip field. They worked
diligently hardly raising their faces from the
ground, and not knowing whether to be
more frightened of the pigs or of the human
visitors.

That evening loud laughter and bursts of
singing came from the farmhouse. And
suddenly, at the sound of the mingled
voices, the animals were stricken with
curiosity. What could be happening in there,
now that for the first time animals and
human beings were meeting on terms of
equality? With one accord they began to
creep as quietly as possible into the
farmhouse garden.

-47-

employees. But all such doubts were now
dispelled. Today he and his friends had
visited Animal Farm and inspected every
inch of it with their own eyes, and what did
they find? Not only the most up-to-date
methods, but a discipline and an
orderliness which should be an example to
all farmers everywhere. He believed that he
was right in saying that the lower animals on
Animal Farm did more work and received
less food than any animals in the county.
Indeed, he and his fellow-visitors today had
observed many features which they
intended to introduce on their own farms
immediately.

He would end his remarks, he said, by
emphasising once again the friendly
feelings that subsisted, and ought to
subsist, between Animal Farm and its
neighbours. Between pigs and human
beings there was not, and there need not
be, any clash of interests whatever. Their
struggles and their difficulties were one.
Was not the labour problem the same
everywhere? Here it became apparent that
Mr. Pilkington was about to spring some
carefully prepared witticism on the
company, but for a moment he was too
overcome by amusement to be able to utter
it. After much choking, during which his
various chins turned purple, he managed to
get it out: 'If you have your lower animals to
contend with,' he said, 'we have our lower
classes!' This bon mot set the table in a
roar; and Mr. Pilkington once again
congratulated the pigs on the low rations,
the long working hours, and the general
absence of pampering which he had
observed on Animal Farm.

And now, he said finally, he would ask the
company to rise to their feet and make
certain that their glasses were full.
'Gentlemen,' concluded Mr. Pilkington,
'gentlemen, I give you a toast: To the

-48-

observed, too, the green flag which flew
from the masthead. If so, they would
perhaps have noted that the white hoof and
horn with which it had previously been
marked had now been removed. It would be
a plain green flag from now onwards.

He had only one criticism, he said, to make
of Mr. Pilkington's excellent and neighbourly
speech. Mr. Pilkington had referred
throughout to 'Animal Farm.' He could not of
course know for he, Napoleon, was only
now for the first time announcing it that the
name 'Animal Farm' had been abolished.
Henceforward the farm was to be known as
'The Manor Farm' which, he believed, was
its correct and original name.

'Gentlemen,' concluded Napoleon, 'I will
give you the same toast as before, but in a
different form. Fill your glasses to the brim.
Gentlemen, here is my toast: To the
prosperity of The Manor Farm! '

There was the same hearty cheering as
before, and the mugs were emptied to the
dregs. But as the animals outside gazed at
the scene, it seemed to them that some
strange thing was happening. What was it
that had altered in the faces of the pigs?
Clover's old dim eyes flitted from one face
to another. Some of them had five chins,
some had four, some had three. But what
was it that seemed to be melting and
changing? Then, the applause having come
to an end, the company took up their cards
and continued the game that had been
interrupted, and the animals crept silently
away.

But they had not gone twenty yards when
they stopped short. An uproar of voices was
coming from the farmhouse. They rushed
back and looked through the window again.
Yes, a violent quarrel was in progress.
There were shoutings, bangings on the

-49-

table, sharp suspicious glances, furious
denials. The source of the trouble appeared
to be that Napoleon and Mr. Pilkington had
each played an ace of spades
simultaneously.

Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and
they were all alike. No question, now, what
had happened to the faces of the pigs. The
creatures outside looked from pig to man,
and from man to pig, and from pig to man
again; but already it was impossible to say
which was which.

-50-