Celebration of 150th anniversary of West Ham Park’s opening

Background

Surviving documents relating to the parklands date from the mid-sixteenth century. By 1670, Rooke Hall, later renamed Upton House, was the main house dominating the area.

In 1762, physician and botanist Dr. John Fothergill bought the house (see here for details), enlarged the grounds, built extensive greenhouses, and planted them with rare and exotic botanical species from around the world.

Dr John Fothergill

Unfortunately, 260 years later, the Corporation of London has decided to tear down the last of the greenhouses and cover the area with housing.

Fothergill’s botanical gardens were second only to Kew in importance in England. He recorded the details of his plants in records that survive in the British library and commissioned paintings and drawings, many of Catherine the Great of Russia acquired on his death. They languish, untended, in a small botanical museum on the outskirts of St Petersburg.

Although the greenhouses have gone and the paintings are inaccessible, at least one of Fothergill’s specimens remains in the park—the Gingko Biloba tree (pictured), which he is believed to have planted there in 1763.

Fothergill's Gingko Biloba tree

Upton House was renamed Ham House in the 1780s and eventually acquired by Quaker banker and philanthropist Samuel Gurney in 1812 (see here for details), where he resided for the rest of his life. When he retired from banking in the 1840s, he dedicated his efforts to philanthropy and local land acquisition, and in a piecemeal fashion, he purchased over 30% of the land that is now recognised as Forest Gate.

Samuel Gurney

Gurney’s older sister, prison reformer Elizabeth Fry’s (see here for details) household fell on hard times in the 1820s. Samuel allowed them to live in a house named the Cedars on the edge of his landholding from 1829 until 1844. That house later became a Territorial Army barracks and local headquarters.

Elizabeth Fry

Soon after Gurney died in 1856, his own immediate family faced financial difficulties following the collapse of the bank he once led. His grandson, John, set about disposing of some of the land Gurney had accumulated, which in many ways led to the growth of Forest Gate as the Victorian commuter suburb it largely remains today.

Ham House in its grounds, before demolition in 1872

John Gurney was keen that the 77 acres of his grandfather’s immediate estate should become a public park. He valued it at £25,000 and offered to sell it at half its valuation if local people contributed the other half towards its sale price. A fund was launched to find the money, led by one-time Gurney employee and administrator Gustav Pagenstecher (see here for details). 

Gustav Pagenstecher

The then local authority was unwilling to contribute, and only £2,500 was raised from immediate local sources. Pagenstecher turned his fundraising attention to the Corporation of London, which was already interested in acquiring Epping Forest, including Wanstead Flats, for public use (see here for details).

The Friend, a Quaker publication dated 1 April 1873, explains the Corporation’s interest. It noted, “No parish in London has expanded more rapidly than West Ham. It has seen an increase in population of more than 60% over the last 10 years.”

Gurney and Pagenstecher feared that developers would have bought the land and turned it into housing if it had not become a public park.

The Corporation contributed £10,000 towards purchasing the Park, which was to be open to the public “in perpetuity … at its own expense” from its opening in July 1874. The corporation has run and managed it ever since. Pagenstecher maintained a keen interest and was deputy chairman of its board of trustees from its establishment as a park until he died in 1916. He wrote the first history of the park.

Elements of the history of the park

One of the first things the Corporation did during the acquisition was demolishing Ham House and leaving some of its remnants as a cairn near the park’s main entrance (see photo).

Ham House, before its demolition in 1872

 

 

 

The cairn near the main entrance to the park, all that remains of the house today

The park has many fine features today, including a delightful ornamental garden, children’s play area, bandstands, a café, and pitches and greens for many sports. It is a Grade 11 listed park.

It has often attracted large attendances for special events. The Godwin school diary of 10 September 1895, for example, noted: “The attendance (at school) was good this morning, but owing to the visit of the Lord Mayor and Corporation to West Ham Park, it was greatly affected in the afternoon.”

Entrance to the park, 1907

An Edwardian postcard of the formally laid out park

Another significant turnout was recorded for the Civil Defence Ceremony of Remembrance on 26 September 1943 – see photo below.

Civil Defence ceremony in the park, 1943

Sport has always featured prominently in the park, and Pagenstecher ensured it was well catered for, as indicated in his memoirs:

I’ve always been an enthusiast for cricket. On the Park Management Committee, I used to endeavour to ensure that portions of the Park should be laid out as cricket pitches. I was secretary of Upton Park Cricket Club which dates back as far as 1854 (ed: i.e. some 20 years before the land was formally adopted as public parkland).

Football

West Ham Park is perhaps better known for its unusual football heritage. From 1866, eight years before the grounds were formally designated a park, it hosted Upton Park FC, a club with a couple of unique achievements. It was one of the fifteen clubs competing for the inaugural FA Cup trophy in 1871 and has the distinction of hosting the competition’s first-ever goal, when Upton Park went 1-0 down in the 11^th minute of the game (eventually losing 3-1) to Clapham Rovers, on 11 November that year.

Crest of Upton Park FC

As we approach the 2024 Paris Olympics, Upton Park’s second great claim to football fame comes into view. The club represented GB in the 1900 Paris Olympics and emerged victorious gold medal winners! There is no GB team at this year’s Olympics, so Upton Park’s record as victorious UK footballing Olympians in Paris cannot be matched this summer.

Logo of 2nd Olympiad - Paris 1900

The local area has boasted the strange quirk of having Upton Park FC playing at West Ham Park, while West Ham FC played at Upton Park!

What a hotbed of football this small area of Forest Gate was at the turn of the 19^th/20^th centuries. Just a couple hundred yards from West Ham Park is the Old Spotted Dog ground, home to Clapton FC, who boast several impressive achievements. In 1890, they became the first English football team to play in Europe (beating a Belgian X1 7-0) and competed in six (winning five) FA Amateur Cup finals between 1903 and 1928.

“Save the Forest!” Forest Gate and the campaign for Epping Forest

by local historian, Mark Gorman - celebrating the 140th anniversary of the Epping Forest Act and highlighting the role of ordinary east Londoners in rescuing the forest from destruction.

140 years ago this month, on 8 August 1878, the Epping Forest Act was signed into law. This marked the culmination of nearly two decades of action to save Epping Forest from enclosure and destruction for housing, a struggle which had involved not only leading politicians and lawyers, as well as bodies like the City of London Corporation, but also popular protest by thousands of ordinary Londoners. In this story Forest Gate played a key role.

Up to the 1870's Forest Gate was still a small west Essex village, on the edge of Wanstead Flats, which marked Epping Forest’s southern boundary. The forest, once part of a great stretch of woodland across the county, was by this time just 6,000 acres in extent, between Epping in the north and Forest Gate in the south.

The “toll gate” in Forest Gate (pictured here c.1850)
 marked the southern edge of Epping Forest.
 The Lord Lister Health Centre is located here today.

Even this shrunken area of forest was under threat as the 19 Lords of the Manor, who were the forest landowners, began to see the financial gain to be made from enclosing and developing this open space on London’s doorstep. By the early 1870's Forest Gate was beginning to change, as suburban development spread outwards, driven by the coming of the railway, which had reached Forest Gate in 1844.

As houses covered more and more of London’s countryside, voices of alarm began to be raised. Maryland resident Sir Antonio Brady, a leading campaigner to save Epping Forest, called on ‘citizens of the East End, to protest against the encroachments on the forest, and to do battle with those who had filched from the people rights they had inherited from their ancestors.’ 

Such calls met a ready response among east Londoners, who saw Epping Forest as their space. On summer weekends and holidays thousands of East Enders came by train, ‘holiday van’ or on foot, to enjoy the green space of the forest, and Wanstead Flats was a favourite destination.

Thousands of east Londoners enjoyed Epping
Forest, many coming in ‘holiday vans’ like
this one picture in the 1850's.

The government was called on to legislate to stop the enclosure of London’s open spaces, and Epping Forest in particular was the focus of attention. But Gladstone’s Liberal administration dragged its feet, to the frustration and anger of Londoners. Matters came to a head in the summer of 1871, when Lord Cowley, the absentee landowner of Wanstead manor, instructed his agents to fence off Wanstead Flats, in preparation for clearance and house-building. Outrage boiled over in east London. 

Protest meetings were held in Hackney, Shoreditch, Stratford and elsewhere, and a mass demonstration on Wanstead Flats was called for 8 July. At every meeting came calls not just for protest, but for destruction of the hated fences. At a meeting in Hackney one speaker wondered 'whether the fence would be in existence on Monday morning’. This remark was received with cries of ‘Down with it!’ and loud applause.

A crowd estimated at 30,000 descended on Wanstead Flats that day. The organisers of the protest, now fearful of the increasingly vocal calls for destruction of the fences on the Flats, adjourned the demonstration to the grounds of nearby West Ham Hall (now the site of Woodgrange School). They claimed that the military exercise taking place on the Flats that day meant that they couldn’t hold the meeting there. 

But the demonstrators were having none of it. As soon as the first speaker began, there was a storm of hissing, and shouts of ‘to the Flats’, followed by the manhandling of the carts, from which the gentleman leaders were speaking, up Chestnut Avenue and onto the Flats.

The 8 July protest meeting began in the grounds
 of West Ham Hall, pictured here in the 1890's.

The official meeting on the Flats agreed to petition the Queen over the forest enclosures, then the gentlemen leaders left, as did the large police detachment sent to guard the fences. Everything it seemed had passed off peacefully, until later that evening the mood changed. 

A large section of the crowd began to demolish fences near the Foresters Arms pub, which then stood near the corner of Capel Road and Centre Road. This was land rented from Lord Cowley by John Gladding (after whom a road is Manor Park is named) which had been laid out for building.

The police, hastily recalled from Ilford, arrived to find 100s of metres of fencing reduced to matchwood. The police charged the crowd and managed to arrest one of them, A Whitechapel cabinetmaker named Henry Rennie. A pitched battle then took place, as the crowd tried unsuccessfully to rescue him. He was later prosecuted, but Gladding asked for a light punishment, and he was fined 5/- (25p), which was paid for him by one of the Forest Gate organisers of the meeting.

The Wanstead flats meeting marked a turning point in the open spaces campaign. The demonstration attracted nationwide news coverage, much of it highly critical of the government. A few days later the Prime Minister, William Gladstone, came to view the Flats, after which his administration rushed through the first of a series of acts on Epping Forest, prohibiting further enclosures while a Commission investigated.

‘Epping Forest in Danger’ appeared in the 
Penny Illustrated Newspaper on 15 July 1871. 
Overseen by the local Lord of the Manor, a 
woodsman is cutting down ‘the rights of the people’, 
the tree about to fall on a picnic party in the forest. 
In the foreground John Bull vainly tries to awake 
the slumbering law. A sign reminds readers that 
there are royal rights over Epping Forest.

However, the campaign was just getting going. A pressure group called the Forest Fund, was established in Forest Gate, with local residents such as Charles Tanner, owner of West Ham hall, forming a key part of the committee. The secretary was William George Smith, a County Court Clerk lived in Odessa Road. Although now forgotten by history, Smith played a major role in the popular campaign for Epping Forest, working tirelessly over the next few years, organising petitions to parliament from east London vestries (the main units of local government before Councils) and lobbying MPs and voters during elections.

Newspaper advertisements in the 1874
General Election appealed to voters to elect
MPs who would campaign for Epping Forest
and other open spaces

In 1872 the Forest Fund organised a second demonstration on Wanstead Flats, timed to coincide with a further parliamentary debate on the future of Epping Forest. By this time the City of London Corporation had entered the fray, using their rights as Epping Forest commoners to bring legal action against the Lords of the Manor in the forest to stop enclosures. In doing so the City was seizing an opportunity to win popular support among Londoners. London’s government was increasingly seen as outdated for a modern city, and the City of London represented for many an undemocratic and unaccountable elite.

Their championing of forest preservation did win the City Corporation much popular support, though many were suspicious of its motives. One group of east London vestrymen laughed out loud when asked to sign a petition supporting the Corporation’s defence of ‘the weak’ against the forest landlords (though sign it they did). Nevertheless, a combination of the Corporation’s legal action and parliamentary action by radical London MPs finally led to the Epping Forest Act passed 140 years ago.

 But they did so in an atmosphere of protest and direct action by ordinary Londoners, with a determined group of Forest Gate residents in the vanguard of the campaign. 

So next time you are enjoying Wanstead Flats, remember that July day in 1871 when the crowd took matters literally into their own hands, and helped to shape the history of Epping Forest. 

Prefabs and POWs on Wanstead Flats - more residents' stories

In September last year, as part of a blog on the archaeology and oral history of Wanstead Flats in World War 11, we reproduced some memories captured by the excellent Eastside Community Heritage project of life in the prefabs on the Flats, from the early 1940s until late 1950's (see here) and details of other war-related installations that stood on the Flats.

This blog should be read in conjunction with that earlier one, and provides more local memories of World War 11 on Wanstead Flats.



1950's street map, showing location
of prefabs, just off Capel Road

The City of London has published its own oral history of residents' recollections of Epping Forest, more generally, in which former Newham residents told their tales of life in the prefabs, of POWs  and other war activity on the Flats.  See footnote for details.  We are grateful to the Corporation, to Ms Holtom, the editor,  and in particular to those sharing their memories for the ability to paint a slightly fuller picture of the time.

As we have mentioned previously (here), prefabs were erected on the Flats, by  East Ham council, on land facing the Golden Fleece, towards the end of the second world war. They were built, often with German prisoner labour, to house bombed out East Enders (see photo).  They were mainly removed in 1957.

Their exact location is indicated on the street map extract (above).  Interesting to note that all the prefab streets were called "gardens", testifying to the allure these homes had as residences for people bombed out of more densely and less open space areas in the East End.

Elizabeth Hughes, recalled prefab life:

We were allocated a prefab on Wanstead Flats. We moved in on 4 November 1946 and our rent was 18s a week.  There were 200 of us living in prefabs on the Flats. I lived in one near the 'sand hills' as they called them, although a lot of the sand was used for sand bags.

 

My address was 56 Allanbrooke Gardens.  All the streets, or 'banjos' as they were called, were named after World War Two military generals.

We had everything we needed in the prefabs, and the council continued to add bits on to them, while we lived there. Everything was electric which was good except it took ages to get going. It also meant we were badly affected by power cuts. We were given one bag of coal a week, which just drove up the chimney in no time..

During the 'freeze up' of winter 1947 our prefabs were terribly cold and used to ice up inside. .. At that time there was road building going on. The German Prisoners of War were helping with this - and there were piles of fence poles stacked up for fencing. ...  We stole some for fires. ... Despite the difficulties I think we were happy in our prefabs.

Prefabs on Wanstead Flats in 1950s

The prefabs lasted until 1960, and Mrs Hughes remembers the camaraderie of living on the 'banjos'.
 

You could leave your keys under the mat without a worry ... My husband organised the coronation celebrations in 1953. Prince Philip once visited the area to open some playing fields ... There were also cows on the Flats every year and sometimes Gypsies with their horses. It was like living in the countryside and my daughters loved it. There was a pond right in front of our place and my youngest spent her days playing there.

Walter Barber remembered living on the Flats:
 

Our prefab was in the American style and it was even complete with a refrigerator, which the English prefabs did not have. ... We kept chickens and rabbits and grew vegetables in the back garden.

They took part of Wanstead Flats to build the prefab estate. It was opposite the Golden Fleece public house - between Whitta Road and The Chase. ... There must have been 350 prefabs there, they were all detached. All the prefabs were on their own concrete base, so they were all individually placed.

The last two families including the Barbers, left the prefabs in Dec 1960.

Walter recalled the Prisoner of War camp:
 

 It spread from the boating lake over by Dames Road to Centre Road. Centre Road was blocked off to normal traffic and that was the entrance to it. All traffic had to go round Dames Road, Lakehouse Road to get to Wanstead (is that the reason for the 308 route?).

 

Some Wanstead Flats' prefab residents
(Source: Echoes of Epping Forest)

Most of the prisoners were in huts, there were some tents over there and, when there was a raid on, the prisoners were all cheering the bombers on, you know! Some of the prisoners were marched to do jobs.

What they did I don't really know, but you could see them under escort being marched along Capel Road, to various places where a bomb had dropped and they cleared the debris and things like that.

 

RAF photo of Wanstead Flats, Aug 1944.
To right of pond are huts and tents, used to house PoWs

It (the POW camp) was behind barbed wire with high fences and we used to go and make faces at the prisoners and they retaliated by cheering the bombers on when there was a raid! It was all good fun really, you know there were no hostilities. We didn't treat them as hostile, they were prisoners in another country.

Beryl King recollected the POWs:
 

The camp was quite an attraction to these girls ... I think they (the prisoners) were mainly Italians. .. Our own men of our own age were all away and I know two girls who actually married Prisoners of War, after all they're human beings, just the same as us.

 

"Italian" POW goalpost, still secured
on the Flats, until the mid 1990s

Peter Reeve recalled Allied Troops being stationed on the Flats:
 

Towards the end of the war, just before D-Day a lot of Americans were stationed there in tented accommodation, just before the D-day landings and they used to get their gum out ("have you got any gum, chum?") and they used to roam around. Apparently they were good lads in the pub, they would always buy drinks because the Americans were flush with money, and that was another aspect the Flats were used for.

They were more the Aldersbrook Road end, there was another entrance at the Aldersbrook Road end into the encampment, so the Americans went in that end and the prisoners went in at the Forest Gate end.

Bill Embling told of the Anti-aircraft guns:
 

During the war there were V1 and V2 machines located on Wanstead Flats. We called these 'Chicago pianos' and they were a series of rocket launchers which went off in rapid succession. During the day they were hidden in the bushes, and were brought out at night, to be operated.

 

Ack-Ack guns, of kind deployed on Wanstead Flats,
as anti-aircraft deployment in WW2

Allan Hughes spoke of other war-related activities:
 

The main idea of the barrage balloons was it held up the wire which stopped low flying aircraft with precision bombing and also to stop the strafing (machine guns shot with precision from low flying aircraft), which was a hobby of the German pilots.

 

Barrage balloons on the Flats

If they had run out of bombs, they used to come in low and machine gun everything in sight. The barrage balloons prevented that by having wires up that would ensnare the airplanes.

Also, criss-crossed over the Flats were ditches about 3 feet deep to stop planes landing on there, and the soil from the ditches was in big Swiss rolls along the edge of the ditches, so it sort of created a ditch and an obstacle above the ground to prevent the landing. The Swiss roll bits of earth were a joy to us youngsters to jump from one to another!

Another use that the Flats went to was that sand was evacuated from the ponds and this was used for sandbags. The sand hill ponds had big mountains of sand around them, they were a real lot higher than they are nowadays. Just down from Wrigley Road there was a big pit dug and that was used to fill the sand bags and they were distributed six to a road just in case you had a fire, or an incendiary device dropped on you.

These sand hills were used for despatch rider training. They used to ride up and down over the steep side and over the top and they used to spend hours doing it as part of their preliminary training.

There was a bandstand up on the corner of Capel Road and Centre Road and all the wood from the bombed out houses was put in there and people could go and take it for fuel or repairs to bombed houses and children used to delight in brining a few bits of wood home to put on the fire to eke the coal ration out.

Footnote:

Echoes of Epping Forest - Oral history of the 20th century Forest, edited by Rachel Holtom, published by City of London , 2004. Copies available from Epping Forest Information Centre, High Beach, Loughton, IG10 4AF.

Wanstead Flats saved from post WW2 development plans

Just as the war-time government had found Wanstead Flats useful for their purpose (see here), so those responsible for post-war reconstruction saw great possibilities in using the common to help rebuild the country.

But strong resistance from a local 'Wanstead Flats Defence' committee, and others, helped save the area as the common land, wild life preserve, it is today.
This blog is greatly indebted, yet again, to the Leyton and Leytonstone Historical Society's efforts for much of its content.  Their 2008 booklet, Homes for Heroes or Space to Breathe (for details see footnote)tells a gripping tale.

Epping Forest, of which the Flats are the southernmost extremity, has a recorded history as a royal hunting ground, and later common grazing area, stretching back to the middle ages.


Donkeys on Wanstead Flats, Whitsun Fair, 1900

The pressure to build houses on it, as part of the rapid suburbanisation and spread of railways from the mid nineteenth century was considerable.  How easy would it have been for the rapidly developing Forest Gate, of the 1870s just to have nudged a little further north, take it over as part of urban sprawl, and thus destroy the Flats forever?


Wanstead Flats fair, 1895

We are beholden to the City of London for its late 19th century intervention.  Following an Act of Parliament it sponsored in 1878, the council took over responsibility for managing the Forest, including the Flats, to preserve what remained of it as: "unenclosed and unbuilt on as an open space for the recreation of the public."


Advert for 1892 Easter
fair at Wanstead Flats

Organised sports and holiday fairs began to appear regularly on the Flats from the end of the nineteenth century.  In the early years of the 20th a model yacht pond was constructed, and a bandstand at the corner of Capel Road, near Angell Pond - which attracted large crowds, particularly on Sundays.


Sketch by 'Pip' "All the fun of the fair,

at Wanstead Flats" 1894

By the 1930s over 100 football clubs were using the Flats regularly, and as we have seen, the area became a Sunday meeting point for local fascists, being situated close to their local Woodford Road headquarters.


Crowds watching boats at model yacht pond, 1908

During World War 2, as shown in the previous blog, the Flats housed a Prisoner of War (PoW) camp and also anti-aircraft batteries.  The area to the north of the Flats, particularly around Aldersbrook Tennis Club, consequently, suffered considerable bomb damage during the conflict.



Bandstand at Wanstead Flats, c1925

By the end of the war, the Flats were in a poor state of repair.  Much of the area had been churned up by military vehicles, or turned into allotments.  East Ham and West Ham councils had been allowed to build pre-fabs on part of the Flats, as temporary accommodation for those bombed from their homes, to the detriment of local wildlife.



Whitsun Fair, 1900

The councils had negotiated with the Corporation of London to build temporary "hutments" on the Flats, as accommodation for the bombed-out, blitz victims.  The conditions were that the accommodation was to be temporary (two years, in the first instant) and constructed of short life materials (asbestos, as it happens!).


Wanstead Flats fair, 1907

In West Ham, alone, 14,000 households had been destroyed by war damage, mainly in the areas surrounding the docks.  This huge loss of housing and pressure on the surviving stock was soon compounded by large numbers of returning members of the forces needing somewhere to live, which in turn provoked the post war baby boom.

Housing and space for accommodation, 'fit for heroes', were major political and social issues  at this time. Unlike today, when there is an obvious housing shortage and crisis, the reconstruction, Labour, government then sought to address it by direct and interventionist action.

With this as a back drop, West Ham, council in 1946 proposed acquiring 163 acres of the Flats (see map), via a Compulsory Purchase Order, for new housing. This was on the land already partially occupied by the 102 pre-fabs that had already been built as temporary accommodation, and it was envisaged would provide housing for 7,400 people.


Map published by Wanstead Flats
Defence Committee, 1946

Encouraged by this move, Walthamstow council began to develop similar plans and East Ham council sought to build two secondary schools and a technical college on the wedge of land between the City of London cemetery and the Golden Fleece pub.

These development proposals received strong support from the Labour government and NHS founder, Aneurin Bevan, in particular, as they sought to help reconstruct the infrastructure of the country. Referring specifically to the Flats, and the CPO proposals, Bevan declared "I regret very much that we have to do it, but the people of East Ham must have shelter. The Commoners of Epping Forest must surrender to the overwhelming needs of the people of East Ham."


Wanstead Flats prefabs, 1946

A group of Leytonstone residents, mainly from the Aldersbrook area, and lead by school teacher, Stanley Reed, mobilised a strong local campaign against the development proposals, via a petition and local meetings.  Reed, incidentally, was employed by West Ham council, who gave him unpaid leave of absence to assist with his campaigning work against them. Not sure such democratic magnanimity would be extended today.

The conflict of views, locally, led to the establishment of a public inquiry at Stratford Town Hall in 1946, which was to last for four days; to which a petition with 60,000 signatures opposed to the plans and 346 formal objections were put. The opposition was formidable, including from the Corporation of London (City council), Wanstead and Woodford council, The National Playing Fields Association, Ilford Trades Council and the Footpaths Preservation Society.
The inquiry verdict was delivered in April 1947, and rejected the housing proposals.  West Ham council accepted it gracefully and committed itself to help the Corporation of London fulfil its obligations to develop Wanstead Flats "as a public opens space, along modern lines".

By this latter phrase, they wished to develop the facilities there, by building sports facilities, including a gymnasium, running track, golf course and swimming pool, as well as developing an outdoor theatre.
 
These proposals came to nothing, but the City was stung into action over its generation-long neglect.  It responded by embarking on a major restoration programme, of clearing war-time debris and tree planting on the Flats, to enable local people to continue to find solace in this peaceful haven.

Footnote: Homes for Heroes or Space to Breathe, by Mark Gorman was published by Leyton and Leytonstone Historical Society in 2008 and can be obtained from their website. We thank them for it and recommend it to you.