Скотный двор / Animal Farm

Chapter V

As winter drew on, Mollie became more and more troublesome. She was late for work every morning, and she complained of mysterious pains, although her appetite was excellent. She often ran away from work and went to the drinking pool, where she stood foolishly gazing at her own reflection in the water. But there were also rumours of something more serious. One day, when Mollie was flirting her long tail and chewing at a stalk of hay, Clover took her aside.

«Mollie,» she said, «I have something very serious to say to you. This morning you were looking over the hedge that divides Animal Farm from Foxwood. One of Mr. Pilkington’s men was standing on the other side of the hedge. And I saw this – he was talking to you and you were allowing 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 was not stroking your nose?»

«It isn’t true!» repeated Mollie, but she could not look at Clover, and the next moment she galloped away into the field.

Without saying anything to the others, Clover went to Mollie’s stall and turned over the straw with her hoof. A little pile of lump sugar and several bunches of ribbon of different colours were hidden 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 painted red and black, which was standing outside a public-house^[20]. A fat red-faced man in check breeches and gaiters, who looked like a publican^[21], was stroking her nose and feeding 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 could do nothing in the fields. Many meetings were held in the big barn. The pigs were planning out the work of the coming season. The pigs, who were manifestly cleverer than the other animals, will decide all questions of farm policy, though 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 suggested sowing 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 were often bleating «Four legs good, two legs bad», and they often interrupted the Meeting with this. It was noticed that they broke into «Four legs good, two legs bad» at crucial moments in Snowball’s speeches.

Snowball made a close study of some magazines of the ‘Farmer and Stockbreeder’ which he found in the farmhouse, and was full of plans for innovations and improvements. He talked learnedly about field drains, silage, and basic slag, and 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 was doing nothing useful, and just wasting 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 which was the highest point on the farm. Snowball declared that this was just the place for a windmill, which could 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-cutter^[22], a mangel-slicer^[23], and an electric milking machine^[24]. The animals listened in astonishment while Snowball was talking 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 His Own Bricklayer’, and ‘Electricity for Beginners’. Snowball was working in a shed which had had a smooth wooden floor. With a piece of chalk gripped between the knuckles of his trotter, he was moving rapidly to and fro, drawing and reading, line after line, uttering little whimpers of excitement. The other animals came to look at Snowball’s drawings 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, looked closely at every detail of the plans and snuffed at them once or twice; then suddenly he lifted his leg, urinated over the plans, and walked out.

The whole farm was divided on the subject of the windmill. Snowball did not deny that to build it would be a difficult business. They must carry stones and make the sails. Then they will need dynamos and cables: how to get them, Snowball did not say. But he promised to build the windmill in a year. And thereafter, he declared, the animals would 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 side with either faction. He did not believe anybody. Windmill or no windmill, life will go on, badly.

Apart from the disputes over the windmill, there was the question of the defence of the farm. The human beings 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, and could not say which was right. Indeed, they always liked 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 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 and that he advised nobody to vote for it, and promptly sat down again. At this Snowball sprang to his feet, and in a moment Snowball’s eloquence carried the animals away. He painted a wonderful picture of the future Animal Farm. His imagination ran far beyond chaff-cutters and turnip-slicers. Electricity, he said, could operate threshing machines, ploughs, harrows, rollers, and reapers and binders, and supply every stall with its own electric light, hot and cold water, and an electric heater. There is no doubt as to which way the vote will go now. But just at this moment

Napoleon stood up and uttered a strange high-pitched whimper.

Nine enormous dogs came into the barn. They dashed straight for Snowball, who sprang from his place just in time to escape their jaws. In a moment he was out of the door and they were after him. Too amazed and frightened to speak, all the animals crowded through the door. Snowball was racing across the long pasture that led to the road. Then he slipped through a hole in the hedge and ran away.

Silent and terrified, the animals crept back into the barn. In a moment the dogs came back. Where did these creatures come from? They were the puppies whom Napoleon had taken 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, presided over by himself. These will meet in private and afterwards communicate their decisions to the others. 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.

In spite of the shock that Snowball’s expulsion gave them, the animals were dismayed by this announcement. Several of them even wanted to protest but they could 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 could not think of anything to say. Four young porkers in the front row uttered shrill squeals of disapproval, and all four of them sprang to their feet and began to speak at once. But suddenly the dogs round 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 the sacrifice that Comrade Napoleon has made. 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 no better than 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. And as to 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 upon us. Surely, comrades, you do not want Jones back?»

Once again this argument was unanswerable. Certainly the animals did not want Jones back. Boxer now had time to think things over. He 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 weather broke and the spring ploughing began. The shed where Snowball was drawing 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 were required to go past the skull in a reverent manner before entering the barn. Nowadays they did not sit all together. 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. Nine young dogs were forming a semicircle round them. The other pigs were 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 surprised. Napoleon announced that the windmill would 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 had actually stolen 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 character and a bad influence. Now that Snowball is out of the way, the plan can go forward without his interference. This, said Squealer, was tactics. He repeated a number of 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.

Chapter VI

All that year the animals worked like slaves. But they were happy in their work. They were aware that everything that they did was for the benefit of themselves, and not for a pack of idle, thieving human beings.

Throughout the spring and summer they worked a sixty-hour week. In August Napoleon announced that there would be work on Sunday afternoons as well. This work was strictly voluntary, but any animal who absented himself from it would have his rations reduced by half.

The harvest was a little less successful than in the previous year, and two fields were not sown. The coming winter will be a hard one.

The windmill presented unexpected difficulties. There was a good quarry of limestone on the farm, and they found plenty of sand and cement in one of the outhouses. All the materials for building were at hand. But the problem was how to break up the stone into pieces. Picks and crowbars? No animal could use them, because no animal could stand on his hind legs. Then the right idea occurred to somebody – namely, to utilise the force of gravity. Huge boulders were lying all over the quarry. The animals lashed ropes round these, and then all together, cows, horses, sheep – 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. To transport the broken stone 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 cart. Then the building began, under the superintendence of the pigs.

But it was a slow, laborious process. Nothing was achieved without Boxer, whose strength seemed equal to that of all the rest of the animals put together. When the boulder began to slip and the animals cried out in despair, it was always Boxer who strained himself against the rope and brought the boulder to a stop. Clover warned him sometimes to be careful not to overstrain himself, but Boxer never listened to her. His two slogans, «I will work harder» and «Napoleon is always right,» seemed to him a sufficient answer to all problems. He woke up three-quarters of an hour earlier in the mornings instead of half an hour. And in his free time, he went alone to the quarry, collected broken stones, and dragged them down.

The animals were not unhappy throughout that summer, in spite of the hardness of their work. If they had no more food than in Jones’s day, at least they did not have less. The must feed only themselves, and must not support five extravagant human beings! And in many ways the animal method of work was more efficient and saved labour. Since no animal now stole, it was unnecessary to fence off pasture from arable land.

Nevertheless, there was need of paraffin oil, nails, string, dog biscuits, and iron for the horses’ shoes. Nothing was produced on the farm. Later there will also be need for seeds and artificial manures, besides various tools and, finally, the machinery for the windmill. How will these be procured? No one was able to imagine.

One Sunday morning, when the animals assembled to receive their orders, Napoleon announced a new policy. From now onwards Animal Farm will 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 hay and part of the current year’s wheat crop, and later on, eggs, for which there was always a market in Willingdon. The hens will welcome this sacrifice as their own special contribution towards the building of the windmill.

Once again the animals were uneasy. Never to have any dealings with human beings, never to engage in trade, never to make use of money – were not these their resolutions? All the animals remembered such resolutions: or at least they thought that they remembered it. Four young pigs raised their voices timidly, but they were promptly silenced by a tremendous growling from the dogs. Then, as usual, the sheep broke into «Four legs good, two legs bad!» Finally Napoleon raised his trotter for silence and announced that he had already made all the arrangements. There will be no need for any of the animals to come in contact with human beings, which will clearly be most undesirable. He intended to take the whole burden upon his own shoulders. Mr. Whymper, a solicitor from Willingdon, agreed to act as intermediary between Animal Farm and the outside world. He will visit the farm every Monday morning to receive his instructions. Napoleon ended his speech with his usual cry of «Long live Animal Farm!»

Afterwards Squealer made a round of the farm and assured the animals that the resolution against engaging in trade and using money was pure imagination. It was Snowball’s invention. A few animals still felt faintly doubtful, but Squealer asked them shrewdly, «Are you certain, comrades? Have you any record of such a resolution? Is it written down anywhere?» And the animals were satisfied that they were mistaken.

Every Monday Mr. Whymper visited the farm. He was a sly-looking little man with side whiskers, a solicitor, sharp enough to realize earlier than anyone else that Animal Farm would need a broker. The animals watched him and avoided him as much as possible. Nevertheless, the sight of Napoleon, on all fours, delivering orders to Whymper, who stood on two legs, roused their pride. Their relations with the human race were now not quite the same as before. The human beings hated Animal Farm more than ever. Every human was sure that the windmill would be a failure. They met in the public-houses and proved to one another by means of diagrams that the windmill would never work. And yet, against their will, they developed a certain respect for the efficiency with which the animals were managing their own affairs. One symptom of this was that they began to call Animal Farm by its proper name. They ceased to pretend that it was called the Manor Farm. Jones went to live in another part of the county. Except through Whymper, there was no contact between Animal Farm and the outside world. But there were constant rumours that Napoleon entered into a definite business agreement either with Mr. Pilkington of Foxwood or with Mr. Frederick of Pinchfield – but never with both simultaneously.

It was about this time that the pigs suddenly moved into the farmhouse. Again the animals remembered a resolution against this in the early days. 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, could have a quiet place to work in. It was also more suited to the dignity of the Leader (he spoke of Napoleon under the title of «Leader») to live in a house than in a mere sty. Nevertheless, some of the animals were disturbed when they heard that the pigs not only took their meals in the kitchen and used the drawing-room as a recreation room, but also slept in the beds. Boxer said «Napoleon is always right!», but Clover went to the end of the barn and tried to read the Seven Commandments. But she was unable to read more than individual letters, and she fetched Muriel.

«Muriel,» she said, «read me the Fourth Commandment. Does it not say something about never sleeping in a bed?»

With some difficulty Muriel spelt it out.

«It says, ‘No animal shall sleep in a bed with sheets,»‘ she announced finally.

Curiously enough, Clover did not remember that the Fourth Commandment mentioned sheets. And Squealer, who was passing at this moment, attended by two or three dogs, was able to explain everything.

«You know then, comrades,» he said, «that we pigs now sleep in the beds of the farmhouse? And why not? You did not suppose, surely, that there was ever a ruling against beds? A bed merely means a place to sleep in. A pile of straw in a stall is a bed. The rule was against sheets, which are a human invention. We have removed the sheets from the farmhouse beds, and sleep between blankets. And very comfortable beds they are too! But not more comfortable than we need, I can tell you, comrades, with all the brainwork we do nowadays. You won’t rob us of our repose, will you, comrades? Surely none of you wishes to see Jones back?»

The animals reassured him on this point immediately. 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.

By the autumn the animals were tired but happy. They had a hard year, and after the sale of part of the hay and corn, the stores of food for the winter were not very plentiful, but the windmill compensated for everything. It was almost half built now. After the harvest there was clear dry weather, and the animals toiled harder than ever with blocks of stone. Boxer even came out at nights and worked for an hour or two by the light of the harvest moon. In their free time the animals walked round and round the half-finished mill, admiring the strength and perpendicularity of its walls. Only old Benjamin refused to be enthusiastic about the windmill, though, as usual, he was uttering nothing beyond the cryptic remark that donkeys live a long time.

November came, with raging south-west winds. Building stopped because it was now too wet to mix the cement. Finally there came a night when the gale was very violent. A cry of despair broke from every animal’s throat. A terrible sight met their eyes. The windmill was in ruins.

They dashed down to the spot. Napoleon raced ahead of them all. Yes, there it lay, the fruit of all their struggles. Unable at first to speak, they stood gazing mournfully at their windmill. Napoleon paced to and fro in silence. His tail twitched sharply from side to side, a sign in him of intense mental activity. Suddenly he halted.

«Comrades,» he said quietly, «do you know who is responsible for this? Do you know the enemy who has come in the night and overthrown our windmill? Snowball!» he suddenly roared in a voice of thunder. «Snowball has done this thing! In sheer malignity, this traitor has crept here under cover of night and destroyed our work of nearly a year. Comrades, here and now I pronounce the death sentence upon Snowball. ‘Animal Hero, Second Class,’ and half a bushel of apples to any animal who brings him to justice. A full bushel to anyone who captures him alive!»