The Festivities at Manor Farm

Dear Journal,

The Pigs image source

     It has been a while since I last wrote here. It seems years must have passed by. Animal Farm is quite different now -- through so gradual changes that I can hardly remember their beginning. The leadership is becoming more and more human. Napoleon smokes a pipe. The pigs don clothes from Mr. Jones' wardrobe, listen to the radio, and read human magazines. Napoleon has also recently asked me to assist in the farm's installation of a telephone. An even more shocking turn of events -- the pigs are now walking on their hind legs!

     Just yesterday the pigs invited neighboring farmers over to inspect Animal Farm. They expressed their wishes for a reconciliation from "past misunderstandings." Mr. Pilkington made an interesting remark towards the middle of the evening, a sentiment which I am sure the pigs echoed: "If you have your lower animals to contend with, we have our lower classes." This is the first time I have heard an expression of unity between man and beast. Pilkington admired the pigs' administration -- their ability to convince the other animals to work harder than before with less food. He added that he wished to implement similar policies to his own farm. Napoleon replied that he had always meant peaceful business with his human neighbors. Moreover, he informed his guests that the animals would no longer greet each other, "Comrade," salute the green and white Animalism flag, or pay respects to Old Major. To top it all, Animal Farm would henceforth be known by its proper name, "Manor Farm." Unfortunately, a quarrel ended the round of cards only a few moments later. Both Napoleon and Pilkington played the ace of spades simultaneously and each accused the other of cheating. The party thereupon broke up on Animal Manor Farm.

- Mr. Whymper

Spontaneous Demonstrations of a Republic

Dear Journal,
     Despite the minor setback of Frederick's excursion into Animal Farm, Napoleon has assured me of the continuing success and vitality of the manor. As a boost for morale, Napoleon has set up a series of parades and speeches known as "Spontaneous Demonstrations." He has also placed orders towards the building of a schoolhouse, with which, I believe, he intends to provide an education for his thirty-one children.
     Furthermore, Animal Farm has recently declared itself a republic, unanimously naming Napoleon as president. With the popularity of Napoleon, there are renewed rumors of Snowball's treachery.
     On a side note in the way of transactions, just yesterday, Napoleon had me send for Alfred Simmonds, Willingdon's horse slaughterer and glue boiler. It seemed a strange request, but a grocer's van has arrived today at Animal Farm bearing a new wooden crate of whiskey. I suppose a transaction has taken place.

- Mr. Whymper

Explosion

Dear Journal,
     Napoleon Mill is no more! It has exploded, with nothing to testify its existence but broken-down foundations and debris... Fifteen men with half a dozen guns between them marched upon Animal Farm this morning -- led by Frederick of Pinchfield. They drilled a hole at the base of the windmill and put in packets of gunpowder. The animals managed to rear the men out in the end, but only after several of the animals were wounded... Napoleon, however, seems to consider this a victory.



Rubble: image source

     Curiously, I have been instructed by Napoleon to buy some booklets on brewing and distilling down in Willingdon... while the animals have begun to slowly rebuild the windmill.

- Mr. Whymper

The Fraud of Frederick

Dear Journal,
     The banknotes were forgeries! That scoundrel, Frederick, got the timber for nothing! I only just discovered the fraud and immediately rushed to the manor to inform Napoleon. Needless to say, the farm was in mayhem. News of the deception spread like wildfire. A death sentence has been pronounced upon Frederick by Napoleon, and four pigeons were dispatched to Foxwood, in hopes of re-establishing good relations with Mr. Pilkington. However, there is fear among the animals that Frederick will be mounting an attack on the farm very soon.

- Mr. Whymper

Napoleon Mill



Windmill: image source

Dear Journal,

     The windmill has been completed on Animal Farm! It has been named Napoleon Mill, and the animals are convinced that nothing short of explosives will break down its solid walls... I must agree here for it truly is a magnificient figure, built soundly with a foundation of limestone bedrock. The machinery has yet to be installed (the price of which I am currently in the process of negotiating).

      In addition, Napoleon has also finally formally sold the pile of timber -- to Mr. Frederick of Pinchfield! It was quite a surprise when Napoleon came to me with the proposition, but, to be fair, Frederick did offer quite a shocking sum. The man even agreed to make the payment in five-pound notes to satisfy Napoleon's stipulations. Tomorrow Frederick's wagons are to come to the manor to carry the timber away and finalize the transaction. Throughout the farm, there is praise of Frederick and scorn of Pilkington! The slogan has now changed to "Death to Pilkington," and there is a general consensus among the animals that Snowball has long been a pensioner of Pilkington at Foxwood Farm.

- Mr. Whymper

Negotiations Continue



Rumors image source

Dear Journal,

     Through the agency of myself, Napoleon has engaged in complicated negotiations with Mr. Pilkington and Mr. Frederick. The pile of timber still is unsold, though both are anxious to get it. Mr. Frederick is almost desperate but will not offer a reasonable price... As such, there are rumors circulating that he and his men torture animals and are scheming to destroy Animal Farm and the windmill out of jealousy. There is even a maxim going around, "Death to Frederick!" and a rumor that he is now harboring Snowball. I would say that the relations between Mr. Pilkington and Napoleon are almost friendly in comparison.

- Mr. Whymper



An Order of Eggs

Dear Journal,
On my recommendation, Napoleon has accepted a contract of four hundred eggs a week. The revenue from the produce will pay for enough grain and meal to keep the farm going until summer. A grocer's van will be arranged to drive up to the farm once a week to take them away. Through my guidance, Animal Farm is improving relations with its neighboring farms. Moreover, I have noticed upon my rounds a pile of well-seasoned timber in the yard which had been stacked ten years earlier. I have advised Napoleon to sell it as both Pilkington and Frederick are anxious to buy it. Napoleon is hesitating between the two; whenever he seems close to sealing a deal, it is rumored that Snowball, his enemy, is hiding there.

- Mr. Whymper

Eggs: image source

A Fearsome Storm

Dear Journal,
   A fearsome storm has toppled the windmill on Animal Farm! Months of heavy labor have gone down the drain... The horrific weather scattered the blocks of limestone and uprooted nearby trees and roof tiles, leaving the colossal effort in ruins. Napoleon insists that the windmill has been sabotaged by Snowball in an attempt to crush Animal Farm. My guess, however, is that the windmill fell because the walls were too thin, and I have advised him as such when he set plans to re-construct the edifice.

       Presently, the quarry is full of winddrifts so work is stalled. Emboldened by the collapse of the windmill, townspeople are spreading rumors that the animals are dying of famine and disease, resulting in cannibalism and infanticide. However, I know this to be of the contrary. While taking a round in the store-shed, I noticed bins full to the brim with grain and meal. On my visits, I even overheard a few sheep mentioning that food rations had not been cut back but rather increased! Of course, I shall continue to report to the outside world that there is no food shortage on Animal Farm at all. In fact, it is making a swift recovery from the storm.

- Mr. Whymper



Windmill Reconstruction: image source



A Prospering Farm

Dear Journal,
Animal Farm's relations with the human race are not quite as they were before. Many townspeople still resent the beasts for prospering, though I have developed a certain respect for the animals for the efficiency with which they conduct their affairs. Indeed, on the onset of the windmill's construction, many people at the public houses argued that the windmill was bound to fall down or never work - the windmill would be a failure, and the farm would bankrupt sooner or later. Yet they have not. Rather than declining, I see that the farm is flourishing. Except through myself, the animals have yet to come into contact with humans, though Napoleon expresses a wish to enter a business agreement with either Mr. Pilkington or Mr. Frederick. As they are rivals, I have advised him never make definite offers to both sides simultaneously.

- Mr. Whymper

A Change in Circumstance

Dear Journal,
     I have been hired as a human solicitor by a large, Berkshire boar named Napoleon to represent Animal Farm in human society. There has been quite a turn of events since I last heard of the farm. Their old leader, Snowball, has been expelled and replaced by Napoleon, and the animals wish to build a large windmill. While they have the quarry stone enough, they still require man-made materials – cables and the like. Napoleon decided to trade with the neighboring farms in order to obtain certain needed materials not produced on the farm. He made arrangements to sell a stack of hay and part of the year's current wheat crop, and later, if more money was needed, the hens' eggs, for which there is always a market in Willingdon. I am to pay a visit to the farm every Monday, and Napoleon places orders with me - paraffin oil, nails, string, dog biscuits. I have never imagined working with animals before, but there is money to be made.

- Mr. Whymper



A Change in Leadership image source



The Battle of the Cowshed

 

Boxer: image source

Dear Journal,
     Mr. Jones has attempted to reclaim his farm with some of Pilkington’s and Frederick’s men, just a while ago, in early October. Their defeat is almost embarrassing. Apparently, a pig named Snowball who acts as the animals’ leader, studied battle tactics from old Roman campaign books and was able to lead them to victory with an ambush right around a cowshed. According to one of Jones’s men, a huge horse named Boxer charged at him and knocked him out with a strong iron shoe. He was only able to escape when the animals left to bury one of their fallen comrades, a sheep. The animals discovered Jones’s gun and left it at the base of the flagpole, as a reminder of October 12th, their victory at what they call the “Battle of the Cowshed.”

- Mr. Whymper

A Familiar Tune

Dear Journal,
     The circumstance about Manor Farm Animal Farm is most intriguing. They have even changed the name written across the barn to “Animal Farm” in large white letters that can be read thirty yards away. They have given themselves seven commandments of Animalism, neatly printed and spelled (though with an occasional backwards letter S):

Seven Commandments: image source

1. Whatever goes upon two legs is an enemy.
2. Whatever goes upon four legs, or has wings, is a friend.
3. No animal shall wear clothes.
4. No animal shall sleep in a bed.
5. No animal shall drink alcohol.
6. No animal shall kill any other animal.
7. All animals are equal.

It has captured my attention; indeed, news of the manor has spread across half the county. The animals raise a green and white flag every Sunday, symbolizing the fields of England with a white hoof and horn to represent the comradeship of all animals. From what I have heard from Mr. Pilkington of Foxwood and Mr. Frederick of Pinchfield, neighboring farms, there seems to be inefficiency and moral reprehensibility in the animals’ conduct. They believe the whole thing will be over within a fortnight, with animals starving and fighting amongst themselves. Both Pilkington and Frederick say that “this is what came of rebelling against laws of Nature.” While that may be so, animals everywhere are learning the tune “Beasts of England.” One hopes this will not become a trend sort of thing for other animals on neighboring farms...



- Mr. Whymper

Green and white flag: image source



A Very Strange Occurrence

Dear Journal,



Mr. Jones: image source

     I encountered something very strange today upon my rounds in Willingdon. I stopped at an old tavern, the Red Lion. A farmer, or a notable Mr. Jones in particular – a very heavy drinker, to say the least, claimed that his Manor Farm had been overrun by some alliance of animals – scores of pigs, sheep, and cattle around Midsummer’s Eve. Naturally, all present laughed. But the man seemed quite serious; it was rather peculiar. His story went something along the lines of this: I would not have believed it if I hadn’t heard them myself… Something between Clementine and La Cucaracha could be heard from the manor, The Beasts of England, a sort of anthem for them, sung since their revolution. I have recorded down the words, a snippet of their song.

He had spent much of the Saturday, he admitted, at the Red Lion, drinking away his monetary issues and did not return home until midday Sunday. His farmhands had milked the cows early in the morning and had gone out hunting, forgetting to feed the animals. When Mr. Jones got back, he immediately fell asleep on the drawing-room sofa, with the Sunday paper spread over him. He was woken up by a crashing sound in the store-shed – a cow had broken down the door and all the animals were helping themselves from the bins! He and four of his men rushed to the scene, whips in hand. The animals flung themselves at him, quite out of control, as it were. The animals chased him and his men out onto the road, slamming the five-barred gate behind them. Mrs. Jones took one look and fled. The man’s poor state of affairs led him back to the tavern again.

“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'er thrown,
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,
Sweeter yet shall blow its breezes
On the day that sets us free.
.

For that day we all must labour,
Though we die before it break;
Cows and horses, geese and turkeys,
All must toil for freedom's sake.
.

Beasts of England, Beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken well, and spread my tidings
Of the Golden future time.”

  

- Mr. Whymper