In the heady days after the expulsion of Mr. Jones, the animals galloped round the boundaries of the farm, and the long pasture—with its small knoll, the highest point on the farm—became part of their newly claimed territory. It was here, not far from the farm buildings, that Snowball surveyed the ground and declared that the knoll was the perfect place for a windmill. He conjured up a vision of a dynamo supplying electrical power that would light and warm the stalls, run a circular saw, a chaff-cutter, a mangel-slicer, and an electric milking machine, freeing the animals to graze at ease or improve their minds. The animals, who had never heard of such wonders, listened in astonishment as Snowball painted a future of fantastic machines doing their work for them.

But the long pasture soon became the stage for a brutal political rupture. During the Sunday meeting when Snowball was about to win the vote for the windmill, Napoleon gave a signal, and nine enormous dogs with brass-studded collars burst into the barn and lunged at Snowball. He sprang from his place just in time and fled, racing across the long pasture toward the road. The dogs were close on his heels; he slipped, seemed certain to be caught, then scrambled up and ran faster. One dog all but closed its jaws on his tail, but Snowball whisked it free and, with a final spurt, slipped through a hole in the hedge and was seen no more. The long pasture witnessed the end of the idealistic phase of the revolution and the beginning of Napoleon's uncontested rule.

Months later, the long pasture became a battlefield. Frederick and his fifteen men, armed with half a dozen guns, launched an attack on the farm. The animals sallied forth but were driven back by the stinging pellets, and the whole of the big pasture, including the newly built windmill, fell into the hands of the enemy. From the shelter of the farm buildings, the animals watched in despair as the men drilled a hole in the windmill's base, packed it with blasting powder, and blew the structure to fragments. The long pasture, once the site of Snowball's glorious vision, now lay littered with the ruins of their labor.

In the years that followed, the windmill was rebuilt, but it was used for milling corn rather than generating electricity, bringing in a handsome money profit. The farm grew richer, but the animals themselves grew no richer—except for the pigs and the dogs. The pigs, who had once championed equality, now walked on their hind legs, carried whips, and wore human clothes. Eventually, the pigs and the human visitors became indistinguishable, their voices alike in anger. The long pasture, which had once held the promise of a world where animals would be free and equal, became a silent witness to a new tyranny, where the revolution's slogans had been hollowed out and the only equality was the equality of all animals, but some animals were more equal than others.