In recent years, under Franz's reforms, the bureaucracy had expanded nearly fivefold, but the three seals once needed to get something done had become twenty.
What could once be handled in two hours would now very likely drag on for a month or two. Mr. Saifo had already waited eight years to inherit the estate left by his father, who had died in the chaos of war.
It was not until Mr. Saifo offered a certain supervisor a gratuity of 150 florins that his inheritance papers were approved.
Of course, the Austrian Empire's inspection bodies were formidable, so aside from paying the supervisor, he had to grease the palms of officials at every level. In the blink of an eye, more than a hundred florins had been spent.
The Austrian Empire's enormous bureaucratic apparatus maintained a staggering level of inefficiency, but to make themselves look diligent, the bureaucrats piled their documents high.
Yet the bureaucrats had no desire to solve problems. They only wanted to pile the paperwork higher. The clearest proof was the case files that had often sat on desks for years on end.
To pay tribute to their diligent Emperor, every department of the Austrian Empire required all officials to observe two hours of dedicated service.
Furthermore, the arrogance of some Austrian officials was downright terrifying. They would use the power in their hands to make things as difficult as possible for others.
In the writings of those playwrights, Austrian officials would often respond to public questioning by directly branding it an obstruction of official business, then slapping on the label of a British or French spy, or a Hungarian traitor.
(The above was inspired by the Austrian light opera Franz's Seal from the 1860s.
Before the Austro-Prussian War, all of Austrian imperial society had been steeped