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To the world we all know,
which may or may not be the best world possible,
once again Springtime had come.
But all the magic of Spring
was not enough to conceal the misery of Manor Farm.
Once thriving and fruitful, the farm, and its owner, Mr Jones,
had fallen on evil days.
Beset by problems of his own making,
Mr Jones had turned to drink
and for his misery he had found poor company.
On the evening our story begins,
it was later than usual when Mr Jones came home from his drinking to make his rounds.
Damned old hens.
Good for nothing beasts...
eat their heads off.
On this night
all the animals had agreed that as soon as Mr Jones was in bed,
they would gather in the main barn for a secret meeting,
called by Old Major, the prize boar hog who, because of his years,
was regarded as by far the wisest of the animals.
The other pigs started first for the meeting
being clever and fond of taking the lead.
They were followed by Boxer, largest and strongest of the horses,
and his devoted friend Benjamin, the donkey.
All the other animals, great and small, were anxious to get there.
For such a meeting had never been held before.
Old Major had been ailing
and now, he had made known,
there were some things he wanted to say to his fellow animals,
before it might be too late.
It took a while for all to find their seats.
The pigs had taken up the best positions
immediately in front of the platform,
among them Snowball, determined to get a good view.
And Napoleon, equally determined and even less polite.
What was that?
No.
No, it wasn't Mr Jones.
At last everyone could be settled to hear Old Major.
My dear friends...
I have lived a long life...
I have had much time for thought as I lay alone in my stall.
I won't be with you much longer
and before I die there's something I want to tell you.
Few of us will ever know the blessings of a peaceful old age.
You Boxer,
when you have given the last of your great strength...
What then?
Whatever we produce is taken from us.
Stolen from us... and sold.
Our children are born... to cold and hunger.
Look at them while you can.
You porkers...
do you know what the future holds for you?
Do we deserve such a fate?
Is this farm too poor to support us all?
No, comrades.
Manor Farm is rich.
But we'll never get our rightful share from Farmer Jones.
Overthrow this evil tyrant...
and we shall be rich and free.
Comrades...
Revolt!
But remember...
When you have got rid of Jones...
don't adopt his vices.
We animals are brothers;
large or small;
clever or simple;
fur or feathers;
now and forever...
All animals are equal!
The very next morning,
sooner perhaps than Old Major would have predicted,
the animals found their situation quite unbearable.
And so, almost before they realised it,
the animals had fought and won!
They had casualties to mourn,
and those who died left children to be cared for.
But Manor Farm was theirs
and they lost no time in destroying everything
that reminded them of hateful Mr Jones.
When it came to Mr Jones's house, the animals hesitated.
Napoleon showed the way.
But Snowball took the lead
in entering the place where their tyrant had lived.
The animals alle agreed that Jones's house was no place for them.
All, that is, except Napoleon.
Meantime,
Snowball led the other animals in organising a new society
which they now named Animal Farm.
So that all might see and agree.
The laws of Animal Farm were inscribed in a prominent place
to be remembered and obeyed forever.
No animal shall sleep in a bed.
No animal shall drink alcohol.
Four legs good, two legs bad.
Wings count as legs.
Four legs good,
two legs bad.
Four legs good,
two legs bad.
No animal shall kill another animal.
All animals are equal!
Tending the farm by themselves posed problems for the animals,
but the pigs could figure a way round every difficulty.
Boxer was the admiration of everybody.
He had been a hard worker in Jones's time
but now he seemed more like three horses than one.
Instructed by Snowball,
other animals worked out the rest for themselves.
And the farm work was done like magic.
The success of their efforts delighted everyone
including sly Napoleon and his constant companion Fat Pig Squealer.
That summer, the animals, without any help or any interference,
made a going proposition of Animal Farm.
The fields yielded richly
and they were cut and gleaned with diligence and devotion.
With the harvest safely home,
the animals had time to think of the future
and, at a meeting in the big barn, many resolutions were put forward.
It was always the pigs that made the resolutions.
Comrades, our first five months' plan is a farm-wide triumph.
And the time has come to spread the glorious news,
so that our downtrodden comrades
on other farms will break their chains
and join the Animal Revolution.
Go! Tell the wonders of Animal Farm to the world.
Some animals, content with their lot,
were unimpressed with tales of peace and plenty.
Others, happy in their own surroundings,
were alarmed at the thought of any change.
But wherever they were having a bad time, animals listened with interest.
In certain quarters
the rebellious behaviour of a lot of dumb animals
caused indignation and much conversation.
But nothing was done about it
for the drunken Mr Jones and his cronies did not know what to do.
Snowball felt that education was the animals' next necessity.
Some of the animals were brighter than others, of course.
B, C, D.
E!
Four legs good, two legs bad.
Snowball set himself to solve the problem of power on the farm.
And so did Napoleon.
In January there came bitterly hard weather.
Inexperienced management brought shortages to Animal Farm.
But Snowball continued his thinking for the future.
And in such thoughts he was not alone!
Comrades, I have prepared a new plan for Animal Farm.
Here it is. All it needs is your vote.
At first we will have to work more and eat less.
But my plan will bring us electricity.
It will mean a warm barn in winter...
A light in every stall, sty and roost.
Luxury for all.
Comrades, in one short year
Animal Farm will be the finest in the world.
Dreams, dreams.
A vote for my plan is a vote for the life beautiful.
It's a lie.
I promise you a four-day week.
Bosh.
Perhaps a three-day week.
Nonsense.
A one day week.
With Snowball disposed of
Napoleon stepped up confidently to take charge of Animal Farm.
And Fat Pig Squealer became his obedient follower and assistant.
Comrades, Snowball is a traitor!
What was he really planning?
To bring back Jones!
Now, let's have no more of these useless meetings.
From now on, I'll protect your interests...
and I'll make your decisions.
Let me show you my plan for Animal Farm.
Four legs good, two legs bad.
Hip Hip Hooray. For "Napoleon" Mill.
And so the windmill was started after all.
Nothing could have been achieved without Boxer
whose strength was greater than that of all the other animals put together.
Superintended by the pigs
all the animals worked long shifts which lasted from dawn till dusk.
Rations were shortened for the workers
but the pigs, by virtue of their brain work,
were plentifully provided for.
But the greatest inspiration came from Boxer
who, with his friend Benjamin, worked early and late, in season and out.
One evening after working long and late, as usual,
Boxer and Benjamin made a curious discovery.
Word of what now went on at night in Jones's house
spread quickly through Animal Farm.
Some of the animals thought they remembered a law against beds
but obviously they were mistaken.
And now, other changes in the laws of Animal Farm were in store.
Those ungrateful beasts of yours!
Cheer up, they won't last.
Another winter will bring them to their knees.
Anyway, where are they gonna buy the things they need?
In Mr Jones's circle,
the subject of shortages at Animal Farm was a popular one.
And a sharp trader named Whymper
was just the sort to do something about it.
Comrades! Our leader, as wise as he is beloved,
has decided to trade with the outside world.
Not for gain, of course,
that would be unworthy of our noble principles.
You hens are to have the honour of making the first contribution.
All your eggs.
I know how proud you are of this privilege.
The chickens seemed to remember Old Major saying
that their eggs should never be taken from them.
The innocent suffered with the guilty.
The chicken's uprising was short-lived.
Comrades, I have made a terrible discovery.
There are traitors among us!
Yes, comrades, in league with Jones and Snowball,
to destroy Animal Farm!
Who else is guilty?
Stand up and confess.
The revolution is now complete.
We have no more use for that song.
Singing it is now forbidden,
under penalty of death!
Trade between Animal Farm and the outer world now became quite brisk.
As might be expected, Mr Whymper's profits inspired others to seek their share.
Or at least, give vent to their jealousy.
Mmm... Animal Farm seems to be making money.
For Whymper.
Who ever heard of animals running a farm.
Have you seen their wind mill.
- Come on, let's kick them out. - Yeah, kick them out.
The original owner was not invited to join this movement.
His neighbours let him know his day was done.
Comrades. The enemy has mobilised all his forces against us.
We must save Animal Farm from the hateful enemy.
At all costs we animals must unite.
Now is the time to fight - to die for Animal Farm.
Let us show them all that Animal Farm is strong.
Now began the heartbreaking job of rebuilding.
And as before, Boxer and Benjamin worked hardest of all.
By now supervision of the work by pigs was hardly necessary.
So they had time for less laborious pursuits.
Long after the other animals left the job...
Boxer and Benjamin worked on and on,
giving their all, year in, year out.
A new generation of pigs grew up
endowed with what were considered arts and graces very flattering to Animal Farm
and its presiding genius!
But still the windmill was not finished.
And Boxer's injured foot got worse instead of better.
It looked as though Boxer were dead.
But he wasn't. Not quite.
Boxer's hurt bad, he'll never work again. What do we do?
While Napoleon and Squealer made plans for Boxer,
Benjamin predicted he could look forward to a well-earned rest and retirement.
Next day, the windmill work went on as usual,
but now without Boxer.
And during the morning, what appeared to be an ambulance arrived.
Only Benjamin suspected it wasn't an ambulance.
The other animals finally recognised the death wagon
from Mr Whymper's glue factory.
I was with him right to the end.
His last words were Forward comrades! Long live Napoleon!
As for the wicked rumour that Boxer was sold to a glue factory...
our beloved leader would never do that.
Long live Napoleon.
Long live Napoleon!
And that night, the pigs drank to Boxer's memory
and the whiskey they had bought with Boxer's life.
Years passed. The seasons came and went.
Their short animal lives sped by.
The completed windmill stood as a monument to its builders' faith and sacrifice.
But the animals' revolution was only dimly remembered.
Outwardly Animal Farm appeared prosperous,
but the animals themselves were no better off,
with the exception of the pigs,
and their supreme leader, Napoleon.
This pig-run enterprise now had many of the frills of real civilization
and one fine day,
pig delegates from far and wide arrived at Animal Farm
to celebrate the coming of a new era.
When reports of this great change reached them,
other animals everywhere were incredulous.
Dismayed and indignant, they headed towards Animal Farm from all directions,
instinctively uniting, once again, in common cause.
Loyal followers,
on farms owned and operated by pigs...
there is order and discipline.
Our lower animals do more work
and eat less than on other farms.
This will encourage you to make your lower animals work even harder
and eat even less.
To a greater Animal Farm!
To peace and plenty under pig rule.
To the day when pigs own and operate farms everywhere.
To the animals it now seemed that their world,
which may or may not someday become a happy place to live in,
was worse than ever for ordinary creatures,
and another moment had come when they must do something about it.
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