And you think bureaucracy is bad now

I’ve been reading David Hamilton-Williams’ book Waterloo: New Perspectives: The Great Battle Reappraised, which I picked up used some time ago on a flyer; it’s a controverted work and I’m no expert in Napoleonic history, so I don’t claim to pronounce on the accuracy of the author’s conclusions, but it’s an interesting read. One of the things which struck me was his account of the screwy bureaucratic structure under which the British army labored, and the ways in which it hampered military operations. I don’t think one needs to know much about the Peninsular War (the 1807-13 war in Portugal and Spain; Arthur Wellesley took command of the British forces in 1809 and was eventually created Duke of Wellington for his success) to understand this letter from Wellington to the War Office which the book quotes:

Gentlemen: Whilst marching to Portugal to a position which commands the approach to Madrid and the French forces, my officers have been diligently complying with your request which has been sent by H.M. ship from London to Lisbon and then by dispatch rider to our headquarters. We have enumerated our saddles, bridles, tents, and tent poles, and all manner of sundry items for which His Majesty’s Government holds me accountable. I have dispatched reports on the character, wit, spleen of every officer. Each Item and every farthing has been accounted for, with two regrettable exceptions for which I beg you your indulgence. Unfortunately, the sum of one shilling and ninepence remains unaccounted for in one infantry battalion’s petty cash and there has been a hideous confusion as to the number of jars of raspberry jam issued to one cavalry regiment during a sandstorm in western Spain. This reprehensible carelessness may be related to the pressure of circumstances since we are at war with France, a fact which may come as a bit of a surprise to you gentlemen in Whitehall. This brings me to my present purpose, which is to request elucidation of my instructions from His Majesty’s Government, so that I may better understand why I am dragging an army over these barren plains. I construe that perforce it must be one of the alternative duties, as given below. I shall pursue one with the best of my ability but I cannot do both. 1. To train an army of uniformed British clerks in Spain for the benefit of the accountants and copy-boys in London, or perchance, 2. To see to it that the forces of Napoleon are driven out of Spain.

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