How Lewes became the Bonfire capital of the world

If you took a knock to the head and woke up in Lewes on this particular day of the year, you would be forgiven for thinking that you had been transported to some strange, cultish civilisation on the eve of the apocalypse.

Your day will begin at 6am on the dot with a nerve-jolting explosion from the castle’s cannon. As you walk the town, slightly dazed, you will see shop windows boarded up with long planks of wood. Locals walk the streets in smuggler-style hooped jerseys, colour-coded depending on their postcode. Others, the chiefs, wear even more extravagant gowns and robes.

After a certain hour, the roads will close and the train station will shut. Bitter firecracker smoke will filter along the town’s twittens like nicotine through veins. As the light fades, the crowds will begin to build, many tens of thousands, including outsiders who have defied orders to stay away. This can only mean one thing. You have woken up on Nov 5, and you are about to witness the biggest bonfire procession on the planet.

Lewes Bonfire (there is no “Night” when talking about the event here) is just as riotous as you might imagine. The processions are organised by six of the seven local bonfire societies, who host 30 or so neighbouring factions and parade through the streets in fantastic costume to the melodies of marching bands, as the year’s satirical tableaux are unveiled. Jeremy Clarkson, Vladimir Putin and Boris Johnson being some of the 3D replicas of recent years.

Guy Fawkes makes an appearance and each society commemorates the 17 Protestant martyrs who were burnt alive in the centre of Lewes in the 1550s. There are more extravagant costumes too – think Vikings, Tudors and Romans. One society’s Zulu dress code has been discontinued, and whether the “No Popery” banners and Native American costumes still have a place in the event is subject to ongoing debate.

More than anything, this is a folk festival of community and respect for the dead – and fire. If they aren’t holding a burning cross, each bonfire “boye” and “belle” wields a flaming torch, or perhaps rolls a flaming barrel, under the strict maxim of Volenti non fit injuria (basically Latin for “if you get injured, you bloody well knew the risks so you can’t sue”) before reaching one of the six bonfire sites on the edges of the town. However loud and busy you think it’s going to be, double it, then douse that preconception with lighter fluid and throw on a match to see if it goes bang.

But once the crowds have dissipated, the streets have been swept clean and the ashes have cooled, life carries on in Lewes. And it is on these quieter days – the 364 non-Bonfire days of the year – when you can uncover the true charms of this small town, and the cavernous depths of its eccentricities.

The centre of the cosmos

My guided tour of Lewes begins on cobbled Keere Street. This is its own version of the Hovis street in Shaftesbury, with a 15th-century bookshop at its summit, leaning like a nosy old villager trying to hear what’s being said on the pavements. Nearby, a poster in the window of a printing press reads: “Lewes, Centre of the Cosmos.” You might chalk this off as a bit of fun but there are strands of truth to this claim, beyond the fact that Lewes happens to lie on the Greenwich meridian.

In 1264, a group of rebellious barons led by Simon de Montfort descended on the downs northwest of the town in an attempt to overthrow King Henry III. Despite being outnumbered two to one, the rebels won the Battle of Lewes. Henry retreated to Lewes Priory and his son, the future Edward I, ended up cowering in a local windmill. Simon de Montfort became the de facto ruler of Britain and the following January elected representatives from every county in England assembled in Westminster. It was, in the words of one historian, “The House of Commons in embryo”, which makes Lewes, by my estimation, the marital bed of parliamentary democracy.

Across the road from the “Centre of the Cosmos” poster is Bull House, where local hero Thomas Paine lived from 1768 to 1774. After his period as an exciseman in Lewes, Paine moved to Philadelphia where he authored a pro-independence pamphlet, Common Sense. Half a million copies, many printed illegally, were distributed across the colonies. Extracts were often read aloud in taverns and even George Washington used Paine’s words to rouse his soldiers. To this day, the man who once debated his political ideas at Lewes’ Headstrong Club at the White Hart is called the “Father of the American Revolution”.

It is no coincidence that these moments of nonconformism have links to Lewes. The county catchphrase “We wunt be druv” means “we won’t be driven”, asserting that the people of Sussex are strong-minded sorts. The sentiment dates back to the medieval period, when common folk in Sussex were freer from the ruling classes than in other parts of the country. Today the motto is adopted by Harvey’s Brewery (nicknamed Lewes Cathedral), which sits prominently beside the River Ouse in the lowlands of the town. And it is a principle that plays out not just during November’s health-and-safety-defying procession, but in day-to-day life.

If you happen across the Lewes Arms in August, for example, you might witness the World Pea Throwing Championships (“World” because a German took part one year). At that same pub, the Dwyle Flunking event sees men and women dance around a cask barrel while attempting to slap each other in the face with a beer-drenched cloth on a stick. Attempt to “druv” that lot at your own risk.

There are other hints of a town that carves its own path. Across the many pubs of Lewes (there are 17, by my count), “toads”, a game where you attempt to throw a brass coin into a small hole, is preferred to darts. Meanwhile the bowling green, Britain’s oldest, which sits in the shadow of the castle, is riddled with lumps and divots and the members don’t wear white.

The people of Lewes have stepped in to save a number of cherished public spaces in recent years – Pells Pools (Britain’s oldest freshwater lido) and the Railway Land, to name just two. The town also has its own currency, the Lewes Pound, which was launched in 2008 to support local businesses and has denominations of £1, £5, £10 and – er – £21. But perhaps the best place to sample the spirit of Lewes is at the Dripping Pan (aka the Pan Siro), the home of Lewes FC, which pays its men’s and women’s teams equally. No other club in the world can say the same.

Culture, cuisine and craft beer

That is all very well. But how can you sample the best of Lewes, as an outsider?

You could have an enlightening weekend in Lewes simply wandering the town, admiring the tile-hung townhouses of Southover High Street, exploring the 11th-century Priory ruins and the castle’s pleasure gardens. And, of course, soaking up the views.

The name Lewes originates from the Old English word “hlæw”, which means “hills”, and everywhere you look you can see the dragon’s ridgeback of the surrounding downs, giving Lewes the aura of an ancient kingdom only accessible by steed. Although arguably the most distinctive feature of Lewes is the vast chalk cliffs that tower above the east of the town. And in the shadow of these cliffs is one of the town’s most exciting new businesses.

Danny Tapper opened Beak Brewery Taproom four years ago, and it has since grown to become one of Britain’s most celebrated craft breweries. Beak hosts a beer festival in a nearby field every summer (These Hills) and forms part of the Lewes Beer Mile, which also stops at three other local breweries.

“It’s like a disloyalty card,” jokes Tapper. “You get rewarded if you visit all four.”

The taproom, set in an industrial park on the edge of town, was buzzing when I visited. A street food van dished out brisket burgers and there were rumours swirling that somebody had spotted one of the local peregrine falcons that nests in the cliffs. Soon, Tapper discloses, the brewery will have a second site in Brighton.

From Beak, I wander back into town via Cliffe High Street, but brewing stays on my mind as there is a distinct, sweet aroma of hops emitting from the chimneys of Harvey’s. Overhead, geese garble in raucous acapella, making their way to the nearby wetlands at RSPB Lewes Brooks.

Throughout town there are antique shops and flea markets heaving with heavy furniture and delicate trinkets, a major draw for visitors (although these days Lewes is also attracting a different type of tourist). For years, Bill’s (founded here) was the pinnacle of the dining options in town, but now there is an emerging scene of independent restaurants including Fork, Squisito and Dill.

The least formal of the three is Squisito, in the old Needlemakers, which is celebrating its second birthday this November. Harry Fields, the owner and head chef, has experience working in a Michelin-starred restaurant, and has formulated a menu of Italian-inspired dishes like braised ox cheek rigatoni and burrata with Chioggia beetroot.

“Before, Lewes was very much a coffee shop town. Now there seems to be an exciting wave of restaurants with an emphasis on good food,” says Fields, while preparing a dish in the restaurant’s open kitchen. “People in Lewes used to travel out of town to eat. Now we have people travelling into Lewes from places like Brighton.”

The sense of Lewes as a destination is solidified down the hill, where I pop into Charleston art gallery, the sister site to the Charleston Farmhouse in Firle. With connections to Tate and the V&A, its ambitions feel anything but suburban: on the top floor there is a brilliant exhibition on the subject of “home” by Grayson Perry. Next year Charleston will host an exhibition featuring works by Cézanne, Van Gogh, Renoir and Pissarro. However, the pinnacle of Lewes’ cultural calendar will always be the Artwave Festival, during which hundreds of local creators open their doors to show off their works.

Today, those doors are very much locked shut. To everyone attending the Bonfire, I wish you a safe and riotous evening. Prepare to recoil at the shotgun crack of bird scarers. Prepare to feel the heat of scorched effigies. Prepare to marvel at firework displays from all angles. And prepare to witness a blazing fire in the belly, like nowhere else in the cosmos.

Where to stay

The White Hart reopened its doors under new ownership in October 2024. Expect wonky corridors, low ceilings and Roberts radios playing Classic FM on arrival. Raymond Blanc, the chef patron, has curated a menu of French-inspired dishes and the tiled terrace has far-reaching views of the South Downs (“snug” rooms from £149).

How to get there

Trains from London Victoria to Lewes take approximately one hour. Trains from Brighton take 15 minutes.

What to see and do

Swing by the local independent cinema, Depot. Browse for gifts in the charming micro-department store of Wickle. Pick up a bag of freshly roasted coffee beans at Pharmacie or Tigermoth. Flick through vinyl records at Union, and then enjoy a hot drink with a view at Taith.

How to experience Lewes Bonfire

Tens of thousands of people visit Lewes each year for the Bonfire procession. The advice from the local authorities is to stay away – appropriately so, given the scale of the event and the size of the town – but here is some guidance if you have already decided to travel for the event, or plan to do so in the future.

How to get there

Use public transport and arrive early. On-street parking is suspended and there are road closures from 4:45pm; even if you do drive and find somewhere to park on the outskirts of town, you won’t be able to leave until the middle of the night (roads reopen at 2am). Rail and bus services are also affected by the event, with no trains in or out of Lewes (or nearby Falmer, Cooksbridge, Glynde or Southease) after 5pm until the following morning.

Where to watch the procession

Throw any hope of timings or scheduling out of the window. If you want to get in the thick of the event and witness all of the processions, position yourself on Cliffe High Street near the bridge or near the war memorial on the High Street. But beware, it will be heaving (regardless of the weather). For a marginally less hectic experience, head to Southover High Street to watch the Southover procession, or up beyond the Black Horse where things are a bit quieter.

How to see the bonfires

The bonfire sites are at Malling Rec (Waterloo), Landport Rec (Commercial Square), Ham Lane (Cliffe), Convent Field (Southover), Railway Lane (South Street) and Landport Bottom (Borough). The Nevill Juvenile bonfire takes place earlier, in October. Most of the bonfires are ticketed and sell out before the event, although Waterloo and Commercial Square’s bonfires are free to attend.