Bates’ Diary entries decoded after 200 years - book for 18 June

Spaces are fast running out for my presentation about Edward Bates and what we have discovered after decrypting his diary entries. Why the interest? Read on …

For the first time in two centuries, hidden passages from the long-familiar diary of Edward Bates have finally yielded their secrets. What was this Cuckfield clockmaker - and sworn headborough - so determined to conceal? And how did the often faint lines of coded script open a window onto his multi-faceted life: part tradesman, for a time a law officer, part amateur cryptographer?

It was 20 November 1812. War gripped Europe, and the threat of a Napoleonic invasion loomed over quiet Sussex. Cuckfield could, at any moment, find itself on the front line should an invading army en route for London. That same month, 45‑year‑old Edward Bates took his oath as headborough - a title with roots deep in medieval England.

In the 14th century, headboroughs kept order within the ‘tithing,’ the lowest rung of local administration. By Bates’s day, the office had evolved into one of local constable: maintaining the peace, reporting offences, organising the billetting of soldiers and ensuring the King’s law was observed. He was a highly respected - and by some - a feared man.

Perhaps it was the presence of troops in the town - or a habit of discretion born of authority - that led Bates to master a cipher. His diary looked ordinary enough, it recorded a hotch potch of information - national events, births / deaths and marriages, property sales, visitors to the high street by national figures. A veritable eye witness account of one of the most interesting times in Cuckfield’s history and this is why it has fascinated so many for so long. But tucked between everyday entries lay whole sections of written puzzles that had frustrated generations of researchers.

When modern technology was finally turned on his encoding, artificial intelligence was quick to admit defeat. ‘This text appears to be heavily distorted or encoded,’ one AI tool complained, judging it unreadable. A second offered to attempt decoding - if I paid for their premium and exorbitant service.

Convinced that Edward’s 200‑year‑old cipher would yield to simpler means. The secret? Bates had jumbled just 15 of the alphabet’s 26 letters - enough to throw off even the most determined readers.

But the job was not yet done. Fully decoding the text was far from straightforward. Georgian spelling quirks, regional place names and the eccentricities of Bates’s hurried hand created new challenges. Ornate calligraphy, chemical names blurred … then the very letters were obscured by blots, tears and fading ink. Decoding became as much an exercise in palaeography* as in cryptanalysis. It took a time to ‘get your eye in’, then line by line, the text began to speak again.

The job is now complete - apart from just a few words that have evaded the translation process, and some due to a careless encoding.

strikingly relevant today

The story feels strikingly relevant today. National Cyber Security Centre, part of GCHQ, is currently urging the public to move away from traditional passwords and adopt passkeys to better safeguard their data. And yet, two centuries ago, there was already someone who understood both the risks and the need to protect his information.

In Sussex history, Bates’ book is important because it preserves first-hand information about Cuckfield’s inns, transport, prices and local transactions in the early 1800s. It also links ordinary village life with wider regional developments such as the opening of the Hickstead road and the traffic between London and Brighton. Nationally it features how the country was preparing for a Napoleonic invasion and even a British Prime Minister assassinated.

It’s curious that although Bates’ diary has been well known in local historical circles for decades no one has mentioned that they had found coded text.

Two hundred years later, Bates’ motives are clear enough. Where secrets meant livelihood, discretion was survival. The modest village clockmaker was, in truth, a man guarding both his livelihood and his conscience - from prying eyes - and then, and for a couple of centuries.

*palaeography - the study of ‘old writing’

Notes: Edward Bates (bn1767-d1845) ran a successful clockmaking business in the town at the turn of the 18th century. Bates took over a business from the last of the Gatland clockmaking family. Edward was the first historian of the village; he kept a commonplace book (village diary) from c1809 to 1834 as village ‘headborough’ that entailed civic administrative and law enforcement duties. He documented aspects of life, logging his observations on passing traffic in the town, misdemeanours and his interactions with fellow townsfolk. This book serves as a valuable historical resource, offering insights into the social and economic conditions of the time and now safely resides in the West Sussex Archive at Chichester.

Book now

The presentation will be in the Council Chamber of the Queens Hall at 7.15 for 7.30pm on Thursday 18 June 2026. People who want to attend need to book in advance by email to Malcolm Davison at gmdavison@btinternet.com as there is a maximum seating capacity of 30 seats. There will be a collection to support Cuckfield Society's fight against Cuckstye and for Cuckfield Museum funds.