Your conclusion is pretty much spot on, although Poles might have been anywhere in Europe when they were discharged from duty.
Currently, I'm piecing together my father's journey, who, at 18, was forcibly conscripted into the Wehrmacht. When the Allies landed at Normandy, he was in France and was either captured as a POW or surrendered to British Forces. It's well-known that Poles were determined to thwart Nazi ambitions and reclaim their homeland. From my father's own writings, I learned that he was sent to Edinburgh to join the Polish 1st Armoured Division. Their mission was to break through German defences along the English Channel from France, through the Benelux countries, eventually reaching Hamburg by VE Day.
I deeply regret not taking the time to discuss my father's wartime experiences and how he felt about starting anew away from his extensive family on the other side of the Iron Curtain.
Thank you for sharing those brief yet insightful interactions you had with post-war Poles. It conjures vivid images in my mind of the characters you've described. Perhaps you have enough material to delve into an entirely new topic.
It brought a smile to my face when you mentioned Polish Pure Spirit, of which we had a lone bottle lingering around the house for what felt like years. As a curious child, I remember taking a sip of the innocuous-looking clear liquid, only to be met with a fiery shock in my throat.
Charleville Circus
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Charleville
- Posts: 37
- Joined: 10 Jun 2023 13:22
Re: Charleville Circus
I first posted here on the Sydenham Town Forum about my childhood home in Charleville Circus around two years ago. Since then, I’ve shared other memories from that time, and while I had hoped for a few more responses, I’ve genuinely appreciated those who did reply.
This post is the final part of the story I always meant to write, prompted recently after I shared a version of it on another platform. I still hope that someone searching for information about Charleville Circus might one day stumble across these posts and be encouraged to share their own memories—either here or on the One-Place-Study I’ve since created on WikiTree: https://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Space:Cha ... lace_Study
This part of the story explains why my parents sold our beautiful old house in Sydenham and moved us to a new-build in Essex. Hopefully it offers another angle on the broader social changes happening across London at the time.
They bought 15 Charleville Circus in 1958 for £1,750—below the national average house price even then—thanks to a private mortgage from the previous owner. Large Victorian houses like that had fallen out of fashion: they were expensive to heat, often riddled with rising damp or dry rot, and considered outdated in both style and layout.
Many once-elegant homes across London—in places like Sydenham, Notting Hill, Hackney, and Islington—had, by then, been bought cheaply and converted into multi-occupancy rentals. These properties had originally been designed for single families, often with a live-in servant. In fact, the 1901 census for 15 Charleville Circus records a young female domestic servant living with the household. Over time, many of these homes were permanently divided into leasehold flats, reflecting the changing social fabric and housing needs of post-war London.
My parents weren’t wealthy—my father worked as a painter and decorator for Lewisham Council—so the only way they could afford the house was by letting out the upper floors as self-contained flats. They were kind and fair landlords, and became good friends with several of their tenants.
Unfortunately, this was also the era of Peter Rachman—the notorious slum landlord who operated in Notting Hill, exploiting mainly newly arrived West Indian tenants with extortionate rents and intimidation. His behaviour became so notorious that “Rachmanism” entered the Oxford English Dictionary as a term for the exploitation and harassment of tenants. Although he wasn’t the only rogue landlord, the scandal cast a long shadow and contributed to a growing distrust of the private rental sector as a whole.
The Rent Act of 1965 was brought in to protect tenants by capping rents and introducing security of tenure. It was a welcome development from a social justice point of view—but it also prompted many small landlords, including my parents, to reconsider their future.
By 1966, property prices for these types of houses were rising fast. My parents sold No. 15 for £4,500 after just eight years. Like many Londoners at the time, they were drawn to the promise of a fresh start in one of the newly built towns springing up beyond the capital. The chance to exchange a high-maintenance, draughty house for a warm, modern home of similar price proved irresistible.
It was a wrench to leave—Sydenham held a special place in their hearts—but looking back, their decision reflects a much broader trend. Families across London were making similar choices, shaped by shifting housing policy, post-war ideals, and the practical realities of living in ageing homes.
I hope this small family story helps shine a light on a wider chapter in Sydenham’s history.
This post is the final part of the story I always meant to write, prompted recently after I shared a version of it on another platform. I still hope that someone searching for information about Charleville Circus might one day stumble across these posts and be encouraged to share their own memories—either here or on the One-Place-Study I’ve since created on WikiTree: https://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Space:Cha ... lace_Study
This part of the story explains why my parents sold our beautiful old house in Sydenham and moved us to a new-build in Essex. Hopefully it offers another angle on the broader social changes happening across London at the time.
They bought 15 Charleville Circus in 1958 for £1,750—below the national average house price even then—thanks to a private mortgage from the previous owner. Large Victorian houses like that had fallen out of fashion: they were expensive to heat, often riddled with rising damp or dry rot, and considered outdated in both style and layout.
Many once-elegant homes across London—in places like Sydenham, Notting Hill, Hackney, and Islington—had, by then, been bought cheaply and converted into multi-occupancy rentals. These properties had originally been designed for single families, often with a live-in servant. In fact, the 1901 census for 15 Charleville Circus records a young female domestic servant living with the household. Over time, many of these homes were permanently divided into leasehold flats, reflecting the changing social fabric and housing needs of post-war London.
My parents weren’t wealthy—my father worked as a painter and decorator for Lewisham Council—so the only way they could afford the house was by letting out the upper floors as self-contained flats. They were kind and fair landlords, and became good friends with several of their tenants.
Unfortunately, this was also the era of Peter Rachman—the notorious slum landlord who operated in Notting Hill, exploiting mainly newly arrived West Indian tenants with extortionate rents and intimidation. His behaviour became so notorious that “Rachmanism” entered the Oxford English Dictionary as a term for the exploitation and harassment of tenants. Although he wasn’t the only rogue landlord, the scandal cast a long shadow and contributed to a growing distrust of the private rental sector as a whole.
The Rent Act of 1965 was brought in to protect tenants by capping rents and introducing security of tenure. It was a welcome development from a social justice point of view—but it also prompted many small landlords, including my parents, to reconsider their future.
By 1966, property prices for these types of houses were rising fast. My parents sold No. 15 for £4,500 after just eight years. Like many Londoners at the time, they were drawn to the promise of a fresh start in one of the newly built towns springing up beyond the capital. The chance to exchange a high-maintenance, draughty house for a warm, modern home of similar price proved irresistible.
It was a wrench to leave—Sydenham held a special place in their hearts—but looking back, their decision reflects a much broader trend. Families across London were making similar choices, shaped by shifting housing policy, post-war ideals, and the practical realities of living in ageing homes.
I hope this small family story helps shine a light on a wider chapter in Sydenham’s history.