The men hear about our expulsion of Jones and the farm now run by animals. They are afraid that their animals may attempt a rebellion like ours because Napoleon and Snowball have been sending pigeons as messengers to other farms in order to tell them our story. The men have spread lies about us in an effort to conceal our prosperity. Nevertheless, animals all over England have heard of a wonderful place where they can be their own masters. Personally, I don’t think this arrangement is so wonderful at all. We still have to work, eat, sleep, and work some more. One day, Jones along with men from the two neighboring farms, Pinchfield and Foxwood, arrive to attempt recapture of the farm. This has long been expected and Snowball has a plan prepared. The first line of attack comes from the pigeons and the geese. Then, Muriel, Snowball, the sheep, and I charged out to butt with our heads and kick with our hooves. The men, however, are strong, wear hobnailed boots, and carry heavy sticks. At a squeal from Snowball, we make our planned retreat, and the men, who think they have us defeated, rush in a disorderly manner. With the plan working perfectly, the horses, cows, and pigs come out from the rear cutting off any line of escape, while the rest of us turn around and charge forward with Snowball in the lead. Jones with his gun kills a sheep and injures Snowball, but without hesitation, Snowball rushes on to knock Jones over with a mighty charge. Boxer also plays his part by rearing up and striking a man unconscious. The other men are frightened out of their wits by the spectacle and flee in panic. Boxer is filled with remorse when he sees the stable boy lying lifeless on the ground but is comforted by the fact that the boy had only been unconscious. The other animals are exulted and filled with excitement with this decisive victory, but I wonder whether it is really such a big deal. We create a military decoration, which I think is completely useless, not that I have any say in the matter, though even if I do I probably wouldn’t have said anything anyway. Snowball and Boxer receive Animal Hero 1st class, pieces of old horse brass found in the harness room. The battle was named the Battle of the Cowshed.
Mollie is finding more and more excuses to skip work recently and she is seen to take sugar from a man. Finally, she runs away and is seen harnessed to a cart in town. I guess she just couldn’t stand life without the pleasures she had been used to. Maybe it is all for the better because she will be happy with her new life and the farm could do without an extra mouth to feed. I am content to work and be with Boxer, but conditions appear as if they will be spiraling downwards soon. The weather is harsh and we are unable to work the fields. Tensions are increasing as well between Snowball and Napoleon. Two powerful characters such as them cannot coexist. Situations are bound to reach a breaking point, where one will be utterly humiliated, debased, or even destroyed. Controversies reach their climax when Snowball comes up with the idea of a windmill to generate electricity. Napoleon speaks strongly against the windmill. Half the farm follows Snowball, while the rest go with Napoleon. I really don’t know and don’t care about who wins the argument. What I do know is that whoever wins will be the one that has the confidence of the animals forevermore. As of now, I’m leaning towards Napoleon because I don’t think that we will be able to build the windmill and even if we do, it will probably be used increase the profits for the pigs and give them more amenities. However, after one particularly eloquent speech, it seems that Snowball has finally swayed the animals to vote for the windmill, but suddenly Napoleon calls out to nine huge dogs. They chase Snowball and come inches to clamping him in their jaws. Snowball escapes through a hole in the hedge, never to be seen again. It was bound to happen; it’s survival of the fittest, or in this case the most cunning and deceiving will last. Life is changing, slowly, but surely. The Sunday meetings have been abolished, debates will no longer take place, and the pigs will make all of the decisions. It was basically the pigs’ decisions before as well, but as least there was a symbolic effort to include the other animals in the fate of the farm. Many of the animals are troubled by this sudden shift in circumstances. Squealer is once again sent around to spread Napoleon’s lies and his self-confident manner, persistence, and convincing arguments soon assuage everyone’s concerns. Just three weeks after Snowball’s disappearance, Napoleon makes an unexpected announcement that the windmill is indeed going to be built.
We are no more than slaves. We work sixty hours a week and Sundays as well. Despite this, the animals are happy. Don’t they understand that we are no better off now than we were under Jones because our work is being stolen by the pigs? With the added work of building the windmill, some farming tasks are being neglected. The work seems to rest all on the strong shoulders of Boxer. He constantly repeated his slogans, “I will work harder” and “Napoleon is always right.” Though life is not miserable, there are various shortages and Napoleon decides that our farm will trade with our neighbors. Mr. Whymper is acting as a spokesperson for the farm. A resolution was passed in the beginning of our existence stating that no animal would engage in trade or use money of any sort. Many of the other animals remember it as well, but as soon as Squealer comes up with his argument that there is no written evidence, the animals succumb. At the same time, the pigs moveinto the farmhouse and sleep in the human’s beds. One of the commandments is that no animal shall sleep in a bed. The next time we see it after the pigs move into the house, the words “with sheets” are added. It’s obvious that one of the pigs secretly repainted the commandment when we were out in the fields or asleep at night, yet Squealer manages to convince everyone that the commandment had always read that way. Everyone seemed so enthusiastic, so admiring of the windmill which is half done. It is the drudgery, the utter hopelessness of our lives. My fellows wonder why I don’t jump for joy and stare at the windmill in awe. I wonder why they are so infatuated by this idea that will never come to fruition. One night, the storm of all storms passes over our farm. The shingles rattle, the flagstaff is blown down, the old oak tree is plucked out by the roots, but worst of all, the windmill has been blown to the ground. Napoleon investigates and declares that Snowball is the culprit of this disaster. It is preposterous! Any animal with the power of reasoning can see that Snowball could not have come in the middle of the night and broken solid stone! It cannot be possible, but everyone accepts Napoleon’s declaration mindlessly, ignorantly.