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Chapter III

How they toiled and sweated! But their efforts were rewarded. The harvest was even bigger than they hoped.

Sometimes the work was hard. The instruments were for men and not for animals. At first, no animal was able to use any tool. But the pigs were very clever. They found the way. As for the horses, they knew every inch of the field, and understood the business better than Jones and his men.

The pigs did not actually work, but directed and supervised the others. They had their superior knowledge, so they were the leaders.

Boxer and Clover harnessed themselves to the cutter or the horse-rake. No bits or reins, of course. Then they and tramped steadily round and round the field. A pig walked behind and called out “Gee up, comrade!” or “Whoa back, comrade!”

Every animal worked. They turned the hay and gathered it. Even the ducks and hens toiled all day in the sun. They carried tiny wisps of hay in their beaks. In the end they finished the harvest sooner than usually did Jones and his men. Moreover, it was the biggest harvest on the farm. There was no wastage. The hens and ducks with their sharp eyes gathered up every stalk. And nobody on the farm stole anything.

In that summer the work of the farm went like clockwork. The animals were happy. Every mouthful of food was their big pleasure. It was truly their own food. They produced it by themselves and for themselves! The worthless parasitical men are gone, there was more food for everyone. There was more leisure too.

But the animals met with many difficulties. For instance, when they harvested the corn, they treaded it out blew away the chaff with their breath. But the pigs with their cleverness and Boxer with his tremendous muscles always helped them. Everybody admired Boxer. He was a hard worker even in Jones’s time. Now he worked like three horses. There were days when the entire work of the farm rested on his mighty shoulders. From morning to night he pushed and pulled something. One of the cockerels called him very early in the mornings to start his work. His answer to every problem was “I will work harder!” It was his personal motto.

Everyone worked according to his capacity. The hens and ducks, for instance, saved five bushels of corn at the harvest. They gathered up the stray grains. Nobody stole, nobody grumbled over his rations. The quarrels and jealousy which were normal features of life in the old days almost disappeared. Nobody shirked-or almost nobody.

Mollie, it was true, did not like to get up early in the mornings. She was always ready to leave work early when she saw a stone in her hoof. And the behaviour of the cat was peculiar. When there was work the cat was always absent. She vanished for hours, and then reappeared at meal-times, or in the evening after work. But she always made excellent excuses, and purred affectionately. It was impossible not to believe in her good intentions.

Old Benjamin, the donkey, seemed unchanged since the Rebellion. He did his work slowly as in Jones’s time. He never shirked and never volunteered for extra work either. He expressed no opinion about the Rebellion and its results. When the others asked him whether he was happy or not, he said only “Donkeys live a long time. None of you saw dead donkey, right?”

On Sundays there was no work. Breakfast was an hour later than usual. After breakfast there was a ceremony. First came the hoisting of the flag. Snowball found in the harness-room an old green tablecloth of Mrs. Jones’s. He painted on it a hoof and a horn in white. This was the flag in the farmhouse garden. The flag was green, Snowball explained, to represent the green fields of England. And the hoof and horn signified the future Republic of the Animals. This Republic will arise when the human race is finally disappeared.

After that all the animals trooped into the big barn for a general assembly. It was called the Meeting. Here they planned the work of the next week and put forward some resolutions. It was always the pigs who put forward the resolutions. The other animals understood how to vote, but they never thought of their own resolutions.

Snowball and Napoleon were the most active in the debates. But these clever pigs were never in agreement. Whatever suggestion either of them made, the other was against it. Even when the animals resolved to set aside the small paddock behind the orchard as a home of rest for the old animals, there was a stormy debate over the correct retiring age¹⁵ for each class of animal. The Meeting always ended with the song 'Beasts of England’.

The harness-room was a headquarters for the pigs. Here, in the evenings, they studied necessary arts from books which they brought out of the farmhouse. Snowball also organized the other animals into 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 that there were classes in reading and writing.

But these projects were a failure. The attempt to tame the wild creatures, for instance, broke down almost immediately. If someone treated the wild animals with generosity, they simply took advantage of it. The cat joined the Re-education Committee and was very active in it for some days. One day she sat on a roof and talked to some sparrows. She told them that all animals were now comrades and invited sparrows to 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.

As for the pigs, they read and wrote perfectly. The dogs learned to read fairly well, but were not interested in this art. They read the Seven Commandments only. Muriel, the goat, read better than the dogs, and sometimes read to the others in the evenings from scraps of newspaper which she found on the rubbish heap.

Benjamin read as well as a pig, but never exercised his faculty. He said, this was useless. Clover learned the alphabet, but to put words together was a problem. Boxer knew the first four letters of the alphabet only. He wrote A, B, C, D, in the dust with his great hoof, and then stared at the letters. Sometimes he shook his forelock, and tried to remember what came next. He never succeeded. On several occasions, indeed, he learned E, F, G, H, but he suddenly forgot A, B, C, and D. Finally he decided to be content with the first four letters. He wrote them once or twice every day to refresh his memory.

Mollie learned six letters which spelt her own name. She made these letters from some twigs, and then decorated them with flowers and walked round them.

The other animals on the farm knew the letter A only. And this was enough. The stupider animals, such as the sheep, hens, and ducks, were unable to learn the Seven Commandments by heart. Snowball offered to reduce the Seven Commandments to a single maxim: “Four legs good, two legs bad.” This, he said, contained the essential principle of Animalism. The birds at first objected, since they also had two legs, but Snowball said,

“A bird’s wing, comrades, is an organ of propulsion and not of manipulation. Therefore it is a leg. The mark of man is the HAND, the instrument with which he does all his mischief.”

The birds did not understand Snowball’s long words, but they accepted his explanation. All the humbler animals began to learn the new maxim by heart. Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad, was inscribed on the end wall of the barn, above the Seven Commandments and in bigger letters. The animals liked this maxim very much. Often as they lay in the field they started to bleat “Four legs good, two legs bad! Four legs good, two legs bad!” for hours.

Napoleon was not interested in Snowball’s committees. He said that the education of the young was more important. Jessie and Bluebell gave birth to nine sturdy puppies. Napoleon took them away from their mothers. He will be responsible for their education. He took them up into a loft. It was possible to enter the loft by a ladder from the harness-room only. He kept them there in seclusion and the rest of the farm soon forgot their existence.

What about the milk? It was mixed every day into the pigs’ mash. The early apples ripened, and the grass of the orchard was littered with windfalls. The animals wanted to share the apples equally. One day, however, they heard an order,

“You must collect all the windfalls and bring them to the harness-room for 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 made the necessary explanations to the others.

“Comrades!” he cried. “You do not imagine, I hope, that we pigs are full of selfishness? Many of us actually dislike milk and apples. I dislike them myself. The object is to preserve our health. Milk and apples (Science proved that, comrades) contain substances absolutely necessary for a pig. We pigs are brainworkers¹⁶. The whole management and organization of this farm depend on us. Day and night we watch over your welfare. We drink that milk and eat those apples for your sake only. Do you know what will happen if we pigs die? Jones will come back! Yes, Jones will come back! Surely, comrades,” cried Squealer and skipped from side to side and whisked his tail, “surely there is nobody who wants to see Jones here!”

He was absolutely right. Nobody wanted to see Jones again. So the animals had nothing to say. The pigs’ health was obviously very important. So they animals agreed without further argument to reserve the milk and the windfall apples (and also the main crop of apples) for the pigs alone.

Chapter IV

Soon the news of the Animal Farm spread across half the county. Every day Snowball and Napoleon sent out pigeons and instructed them to mingle with the animals on neighbouring farms, to tell them the story of the Rebellion, and to teach them the tune of 'Beasts of England’.

Most of this time Mr. Jones spent in the taproom of the Red Lion at Willingdon. He complained to anyone who listened of the monstrous injustice he suffered. Some stupid animals turned him out of his property. The other farmers listened to him, but they did give him much help. It was lucky that the owners of the two farms which adjoined Animal Farm did not like each other. One of them, which was called Foxwood, was a large old-fashioned farm, with all its pastures and its hedges in a disgraceful condition. Its owner, Mr. Pilkington, was an easy-going¹⁷ gentleman farmer who liked to fish or hunt more.

The other farm, which was called Pinchfield, was smaller. Its owner was a Mr. Frederick, a tough, shrewd man. He was perpetually involved in lawsuits. These two disliked each other much. It was difficult for them to come to any agreement.

Nevertheless, the rebellion on Animal Farm frightened them. They wanted to prevent their own animals from learning too much about it. At first they laughed to scorn the idea of animal managers on the farm for themselves. The Manor Farm (they called it the Manor Farm; they hated the name “Animal Farm”) will rapidly starve to death, of course. But the time passed and the animals did not evidently starve to death. So Frederick and Pilkington began to talk of the terrible wickedness that flourished on Animal Farm. The animals there practiced cannibalism, tortured one another with horseshoes, and had common females. This was against the laws of Nature, Frederick and Pilkington said.

However, the people did not believe these stories. Rumours of a wonderful farm, where the animals managed their own affairs, continued to circulate. Throughout that year a wave of rebelliousness ran through the countryside. Bulls which were always tractable suddenly became savage. Sheep broke down hedges and devoured the clover. Cows kicked the pail over. Above all, everyone knew the music and even the words of 'Beasts of England’. It spread with astonishing speed. The men did not contain their rage when they heard this song, though they said, “It’s ridiculous!”

And yet the song was irrepressible. The blackbirds whistled it in the hedges, the pigeons cooed it in the elms. And when the people listened to it, they secretly trembled.

Early in October, when the corn was cut and stacked, some pigeons alighted in the yard of Animal Farm in the wildest excitement. Jones and all his men, with half a dozen others from Foxwood and Pinchfield, entered the five-barred gate and came to the farm. They all carried sticks, except Jones, who marched ahead with a gun in his hands. Obviously they wanted to attempt the recapture of the farm.

The animals were ready. The made all preparations. Snowball, who studied an old book of Julius Caesar’s campaigns (he found it 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 men approached the farm buildings, Snowball launched his first attack. All the pigeons flew over the men’s heads and muted upon them. Then the geese rushed out and pecked viciously at the calves of their legs. However, this was only a light manoeuvre. The animals intended to create a little disorder. 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. They prodded and butted the men from every side. Benjamin turned around and lashed at them with his small hoofs. But once again the men were too strong for them. The people had their sticks and their heavy boots. Suddenly, Snowball gave a squeal. It 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 rushed after their enemies. This was Snowball’s plan. As soon as the men were inside the yard, the three horses, the three cows, and the rest of the pigs suddenly emerged in their rear. Snowball gave the signal. He himself dashed straight for Jones. Jones raised his gun and fired. The pellets scored bloody streaks along Snowball’s back, and a sheep was dead.

Snowball flung against Jones’s legs. Jones was hurled into a pile of dung. He lost his gun. But the most terrifying spectacle of all was Boxer. He reared up on his hind legs and stroke out with his great hoofs like a stallion. He pushed a stable-lad¹⁸ and stretched him lifeless in the mud.

At the sight, several men dropped their sticks and tried to run. Panic overtook them. The next moment all the animals together began to chase them round and round the yard. Every animal on the farm took vengeance on them. Even the cat suddenly leapt off a roof onto a cowman’s shoulders. She sank her claws in his neck. The cowman yelled horribly. The men were glad to rush out of the yard.

All the men were gone except one. Back in the yard Boxer pawed with his hoof at the stable-lad. The boy lay face down in the mud and did not move.

“He is dead,” said Boxer sorrowfully. “I forgot that I had iron shoes. Who will believe that I did not do this on purpose?”

“No sentimentality, comrade!” cried Snowball from whose wounds the blood still dripped. “War is war. The only good man is a dead man.”

“I don’t want to kill men,” repeated Boxer. His eyes were full of tears.

“Where is Mollie?” exclaimed somebody.

Indeed, where was Mollie? For a moment there was great alarm. In the end, however, they found her. She hid in her stall. Her head buried among the hay in the manger. And when the others came back, the stable-lad, who was only stunned, already recovered and ran away.

The animals now reassembled in the excitement. Everyone recounted his own exploits in the battle. They celebrated the victory! They ran up the flag and sang 'Beasts of England’. The poor sheep was buried. A hawthorn bush was planted on her grave.

At the graveside Snowball made a little speech. He emphasized the need for all animals to be ready to die for the Animal Farm. The animals decided unanimously to create a military decoration¹⁹, “Animal Hero, First Class”. Snowball and Boxer were rewarded. It consisted of a brass medal (an old horse-brass from the harness-room). There was also “Animal Hero, Second Class”: the dead sheep was rewarded posthumously.

The animals named this fight “The Battle of the Cowshed”. The animals set Mr. Jones’s gun at the foot of the Flagstaff to fire it twice a year. October the twelfth was the anniversary of the Battle of the Cowshed. And Midsummer Day was the anniversary of the Rebellion.

Chapter V

In winter, Mollie became more and more troublesome. She was late for work every morning, and she complained of mysterious pains. But her appetite was excellent. She often ran away from work and went to the drinking pool. There she stood and gazed foolishly at her own reflection in the water. But there were something more serious. One day, when Mollie flirted her long tail and chewed at a stalk of hay, Clover took her aside.

“Mollie,” she said, “I have something very serious to say to you. This morning you looked over the hedge that divides Animal Farm from Foxwood. One of Mr. Pilkington’s men stood on the other side of the hedge. And I saw this-he talked to you and you allowed him to stroke your nose. What does that mean, Mollie?”

“He didn’t! I wasn’t! It isn’t true!” cried Mollie.

“Mollie! Look at me. Do you give me your word of honour that the man did not stroke your nose?”

“It isn’t true!” repeated Mollie, but she did not look at Clover. The next moment she galloped away into the field.

Clover did not say anything to the others. She went to Mollie’s stall and turned over the straw with her hoof. Clover found a little pile of lump sugar and several bunches of ribbon of different colours under the straw.

Three days later Mollie disappeared. For some weeks nobody saw her. Then the pigeons reported that they saw her on the other side of Willingdon. She was between the shafts of a smart dogcart, which was outside a public-house²⁰. A fat red-faced man in breeches and gaiters, probably a publican²¹, stroked her nose and fed her with sugar. She had a new coat and she wore a scarlet ribbon round her forelock. She was happy, so the pigeons said. None of the animals ever mentioned Mollie again.

In January there came hard weather. The earth was like iron, and the animals did not work in the fields. They attended meetings in the big barn. The pigs planned out the future work. The pigs, who were manifestly cleverer than the other animals, will decide all questions of farm policy. But their decisions will be ratified by a majority vote.

This arrangement worked well enough. But the disputes between Snowball and Napoleon! These two disagreed at every point where disagreement was possible. If one of them offered to sow a bigger acreage with barley, the other demanded a bigger acreage of oats. If one of them said that a field was just right for cabbages, the other declared that it was useless for anything except roots. There were violent debates between them. At the Meetings Snowball often won over the majority by his brilliant speeches. But Napoleon was better at intrigues. He was especially successful with the sheep. The sheep often bleated “Four legs good, two legs bad”, and they often interrupted the Meeting with this. They began to bleat “Four legs good, two legs bad” at crucial moments in Snowball’s speeches.

Snowball read some 'Farmer and Stockbreeder’ magazines which he found in the farmhouse. He was full of plans for innovations and improvements. He talked learnedly about field drains, silage, and basic slag. He worked out a complicated scheme for all the animals to drop their dung directly in the fields, at a different spot every day, to save the labour of cartage. Napoleon said quietly that Snowball did nothing useful, and just wasted his time. But then the problem of the windmill came.

In the long pasture, not far from the farm buildings, there was a small knoll. It was the highest point on the farm. Snowball declared that this was just the place for a windmill. This windmill will operate a dynamo and supply the farm with electrical power! This will light the stalls and warm them in winter, and will also run a circular saw, a chaff-cutter²², a mangel-slicer²³, and an electric milkingmachine²⁴. The animals listened in astonishment. And Snowball talked and talked about these fantastic machines

The mechanical details came mostly from three books which belonged to Mr. Jones: 'One Thousand Useful Things to Do About the House’, 'Every Man Is A Bricklayer’, and 'Electricity for Beginners’. Snowball worked in a shed which had a smooth wooden floor. With a piece of chalk between the knuckles of his trotter, he moved rapidly to and fro. He drew and read, line after line, he uttered little whimpers of excitement. The other animals came to look at Snowball’s pictures at least once a day. Even the hens and ducks came. Only Napoleon was indifferent. He talked against the windmill. One day, however, he arrived unexpectedly to examine the plans. He walked round the shed, and looked closely at every detail of the plans. Then he snuffed at them once or twice. After that he suddenly he lifted his leg and urinated over the plans. Then he walked out.

The whole farm was divided on the subject of the windmill. Snowball did not deny that to build it was a difficult business. The animals must carry stones and make the sails. Then they will need dynamos and cables. Snowball did not say how to get them. But he promised to build the windmill in a year. And thereafter, the animals will work three days a week.

Napoleon, on the other hand, argued that the great need of the moment was to increase food production. If the animals waste time on the windmill they will all starve to death.

The animals formed themselves into two factions under the slogan, “Vote for Snowball and the three-day week” and “Vote for Napoleon and the full manger”. Benjamin was the only animal who did not joined any faction. He did not believe anybody. Windmill or no windmill, life will go on, badly.

And there was the question of the defence of the farm. The men can make another and more determined attempt to recapture the farm and reinstate Mr. Jones. The news of their defeat made 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. According to Snowball, they must send out more and more pigeons and stir up rebellion among the animals on the other farms.

The animals listened first to Napoleon, then to Snowball. They did not know which was right. Indeed, they always liked the one who spoke at the moment.

At last the day came when Snowball’s plans were completed. At the Meeting on the following Sunday the question of the windmill was put to the vote. When the animals assembled in the big barn, Snowball stood up and advocated the building of the windmill.

Then Napoleon stood up to reply. He said very quietly that the windmill was nonsense. Napoleon advised nobody to vote for it, and promptly sat down again. At this Snowball sprang to his feet. In a moment Snowball’s eloquence carried the animals away. He painted a wonderful picture of the future Animal Farm. His imagination was far beyond chaff-cutters and turnip-slicers. Electricity will operate threshing machines, ploughs, harrows, rollers, and reapers and binders. Electricity will supply every stall with its own electric light, hot and cold water, and an electric heater. There will be no doubt how to vote will go now. But just at this moment Napoleon stood up and uttered a strange whimper.

Nine enormous dogs came into the barn. They dashed straight for Snowball. Snowball sprang from his place to escape their jaws. In a moment he was out of the door and the dogs were after him. All the animals were very amazed and frightened. They did not speak. Snowball raced across the long pasture that led to the road. Then he slipped through a hole in the hedge and ran away.

The animals were silent and terrified. They crept back into the barn. In a moment the dogs came back. Where did these creatures come from? They were the puppies whom Napoleon took away from their mothers and reared privately. They were huge dogs, and as fierce as wolves. They kept close to Napoleon and wagged their tails to him.

Napoleon, with the dogs, now mounted on to deliver his speech. The Sunday-morning Meetings will come to an end. They were unnecessary, he said, and wasted time. In future all questions will be settled by a special committee of pigs. He himself will preside. Then the others will learn the decisions. The animals will still assemble on Sunday mornings to salute the flag, sing 'Beasts of England’, and receive their orders for the week. But there will be no more debates.

Snowball’s expulsion gave the animals the great shock. They were dismayed by this announcement. Several of them even wanted to protest but they did not find the right arguments. Even Boxer was vaguely troubled. He shook his forelock several times, and tried hard to marshal his thoughts. But in the end he did not say anything. Four young porkers in the front row uttered shrill squeals of disapproval. All four of them sprang to their feet and began to speak at once. But suddenly the dogs growled, and the pigs sat down again. Then the sheep began to bleat “Four legs good, two legs bad!” and put an end to any discussion.

Afterwards Squealer explained the new arrangement to the others.

“Comrades,” he said, “I trust that every animal here appreciates this Comrade Napoleon’s sacrifice. Do not imagine, comrades, that leadership is a pleasure! On the contrary, it is a deep and heavy responsibility. No one believes more firmly than Comrade Napoleon that all animals are equal. But sometimes you make the wrong decisions, comrades, and then where will we be? If you followed Snowball-Snowball, who, as we now know, was a criminal…”

“He fought bravely at the Battle of the Cowshed,” said somebody.

“Bravery is not enough,” said Squealer. “Loyalty and obedience are more important. So the Battle of the Cowshed… I believe the time will come when we shall find that Snowball’s part in it was much exaggerated. Discipline, comrades, iron discipline! That is the watchword for today. One false step, and our enemies will be here. Surely, comrades, you do not want to see Jones again!”

Once again this argument was unanswerable. Certainly the animals did not want Jones back. Boxer thought and said:

“If Comrade Napoleon says it, it must be right.”

And from then on he adopted the maxim, “Napoleon is always right,” in addition to his private motto of “I will work harder.”

By this time the spring ploughing began. The shed where Snowball drew his plans of the windmill was shut up. 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 was disinterred from the orchard and set up on a stump at the foot of the flagstaff, beside the gun. The animals must go past the skull in a reverent manner and only after that enter the barn.

Nowadays they did not sit all together. Napoleon, with Squealer and another pig named Minimus, who had a remarkable gift – he composed songs and poems – sat on the front of the platform. Nine young dogs formed a semicircle round them. The other pigs sat behind. The rest of the animals sat in the main body of the barn and faced them. Napoleon read out the orders for the week in a gruff style, and after 'Beasts of England’, all the animals dispersed.

On the third Sunday after Snowball’s expulsion, the animals were surprised. Napoleon had something to announce. The windmill will be built! He changed his mind and did not explain it. This extra task means very hard work, it will be necessary to reduce their rations. A special committee of pigs will work on it. The building of the windmill, with various other improvements, will take two years.

That evening Squealer explained privately to the other animals that Napoleon was never in reality opposed to the windmill. On the contrary, it was he who advocated it in the beginning. Snowball actually stole the plan of the windmill from Napoleon’s papers. The windmill was, in fact, Napoleon’s own creation. Why, then, asked somebody, did he speak so strongly against it? Here Squealer looked very sly. That, he said, was Comrade Napoleon’s cunning. It was a manoeuvre to get rid of Snowball, who was a dangerous criminal. Now Snowball is far way, and the plan can go forward without his interference. This, said Squealer, was tactics. He repeated some times, “Tactics, comrades, tactics!”

The animals were not certain what the word meant. But Squealer spoke so persuasively, and the three dogs growled so threateningly, that they accepted his explanation without further questions.