Letters have always had a mixed press. It can't have been very encouraging or entertaining to receive the instruction Kill the Messenger, for example. Much later, writer Paul Scott warned that a letter never smiles, while gloomy Kafka asserted that letter-writing produces 'a terrible disintegration of souls'. But for decades I agreed with Cyril Connolly, who wrote that the essence of country life was waiting for the post.
Whereas the first email was sent a mere 40 years ago, letters have always been with us. Well, nearly always. And were associated with power and control in times when few people were literate.
Britain's Royal Mail can trace its existence back to 1516. In 1603, James I of England, who also happened to be James VI of Scotland, established a postal service between his court in London and Edinburgh, in an attempt to retain control of the Scottish Privy Council.
The US Postal Service owes its existence to Benjamin Franklin and the infant revolutionary movement; the Turks had scarcely been defeated in 1828 before the nascent Greek state set up the body that would become Hellenic Post, with which institution I (as an Aussie living in Greece) have had a love-hate relationship lasting 30 years.
Australia Post probably had the most practical start of all, when in 1809 ex-convict Isaac Nichols was given the job of boarding ships, collecting the mail, and then distributing it from his home in George Street: thus the pandemonium of the general public rushing newly-arrived ships was avoided.
The post seems to have defined my life. One of my great-grandfathers was a postmaster, and I have been writing letters since I was seven, when children were taught to write letters. There were rules. Both my teacher father and grandfather knew, for example, that when writing to the Education Department they had to sign off with the unvarying: I remain, Sir, your obedient servant ...
My children were not surprised to learn their parents met at the Melbourne Mail Exchange, where we swore on specially supplied Bibles that we would do our best to expedite Her Majesty's mail. We learned the post offices of Victoria and their districts: I can still tell you that Drik Drik was in SW 9 (Country). Our work consisted of poking envelopes in the relevant slots, after which said letters were borne away on conveyor belts to waiting bags.
In Australian country townships the post office was a community