The Sun.
London, England, 1828-08-12 00:00:00

MR. ORRIDGE'S STATEMENT.

" Upon William Corder's returning from the
Shire-hall, after he had received sentence, I took him
into my office, and explained. to him that I had 'a
melancholy and 1)010 duty to perforni with respect
tp hint; and that a part of that duty was to have
him immediately stripped of his clothes, and have the
prison clothes put on him ; this was accord;r.ily
done. I then told him I thcr.tght the sooner he.
could forget all earthly matters the better, and there-
fore, if he bad any request to make,. I begged 11,4
would recollect himself and clo it 4timediaiely,
and that I would instantly tell him if his wishes,
wh4tever they might be, could or would be com-
plied with. After some consideration, he said it
would be a great consolation to him if his wife c0',',41,
be permitted te:spend the remainder ci. his tira t.
with him. This, I told him, was imp0i,21.1,;!, but
that she would be allowed two interviews with him;
he was then removed to another 'room. The Chap-
lain (Mr. StoCking) attended him in the evening;
gtFr.i/he Chaplain was gone, I continued with him
'half-past ten. I hinted tc; him .hat. his defence,
though perhaps ingenious, could not be believed, and
that surely he would feel an inward satisfaction in
confessing the truth. He then declared that his
defence was true, and that lie had nothing to con-
fvss ; cf indeed, he said the confessionhis faults
would only tend to disgrace his family more, and
could be of no use to his soul, and upon any other
questiOn put to `him respecting the murder, during
that evening, he preserved a sullen silence.
" In the course of the evening he mentioned the
particulars of his marriage; he stated that he left
home the latter end of September. That he went
to Portsmouth, the Isle of Wight, and Southampton.
That he returned to London in about two months,
and then advertised for a wife. That he had 45
applications to the advertisement, and that one of
a p u a
thema
r t‘ivcaslfom a lady, who wrote to him to say that
:
she should go to Church in a certain dress, and sit in
place; and requesting him to go to
Church with his left arm in a black sling, a black
handkerchief round his neck, and place hiniself in
such a position that they might see each other, and
then judge if a personal interview would be desirable.
He said he accordingly went to the Church, but by
some means he had tnistalten the hour of Divine Ser-
vice, so that he never saw that lady. He said that
after he saw his present wife he never left her till they

were married. That from the time of his advertising
to his marriage was about a week. I observed to
him that he was a most fortunate man, under those
circumstances, to have met with a woman who had
been so kind to him during the whole of his confine-
meat. I then left him.

" My two servants told me the next morning thut
he fell asleep about eleven o'clock, and slept till
after four o'clock; that he did not talk to them.
During Saturday, the Chaplain (Mr. Stocking) was
several times with him. At other times I now and
then hinted the necessity of confession ; in the
course of that day he said ' that confession to God
was all that was necessary, and that confession to
man was what he called Popedom, or Popery, and
he would never do it.' It was hinted to him, some
time in the day, that lie must have had great nerve
to dig the hole during the time the body laid in his
sight; his reply was, Nobody knows that the body
lay in the barn and in sight whilst I dug the hole,'
and would then say ao more osi the subject, but ex-
claimed, 0 God nobody will dig my grave.'
" His wife saw him In my presence for near an
hour. He expressed much anxiety about her future
welfare—she entreated him to forget her, and em.
ploy his few hours yet remaining in 'prayer for his
salvation and eternal welfare. I went to his room
on Saturday evening, about eight o'clock, with an
intention of sitting an hour or two with him, but he
had gone to bed and was asleep, and my men told
me the next morning that he slept until near three
o'clock.

" On Sunday morning Mr. Stocking was with
him early, and endeavoured to lead his mind to the
necessity of confession; he attended chapel, and was
very much affected. About half-past twelve, his
wife had her last interview; they were both very
much affected. In the course of that interview he
exclaimed, ' Well might Mr. Orritlge say that I
was a most fortunate man to meet with such a
woman as you are.

" He then explained to her:that he had told me the
way in which they had come together, and that he
had 45 applications to his advertisement. He en-
treated, if ever she married again, to be sure not to
answer any similar advertisement, as woful experi-
rience must have convinced her how dangerous a
step it was. The parting scene was most affecting;
the poor woman remained in a state of stupor for
some time. Corder was much affected throughout
the day. Mr. Stocking had several interviews with
him, and in the evening the Sheriff 'a Chaplain, the
Rev. Mr. sheen, attended him, for which attention
he expressed himself as feeling very grateful. About
nine o'clock I sent him the annexed paper

" CONFESSlON.—Confession to the world has al-
ways been held necessary atonement where the party
has committed offences affecting the interests of
society at large.

" 'He that covereth his sins shall not prosper,
but whoso confesseth shall have mercy.'
" Surely confession to God cannot be here meant,
as no man can hope to hide his sins from God.
Confess your faults one to another, and pray one
for another.'—Jas. v. 16.

" Archbishop Tillotson says, In case our gins
have been public and scandalous, both reason and
the practice of the Christian Church do require that,
when men have publicly offended, they should give
public satisfaction and open testimony of their repent-
ance.' The text in James is a direct command.

" The Christian doctrine of the necessity of resti-
tution is strong; and if you will not confess, how
can you make restitution to the reputation of your
victim? You have accused her of having murdered
herself. If you died without denying that accusa-
tion, how do you obey the command—' to do that
to another which we would hare another do to us ?'

" The doctrine of confession, which is objection-
able in a Popish point of view, is the private con-
fession, to a Priest, of private vices ; but the duty
of making acknowledgment of public crimes can
have nothing to do with such objections. Even
supposing it doubtful whether a man is bound after
offending society, to confess his errors to the world,
there can be no doubt that he will not do any thing
wrong by confessing. One course is therefore cer-
tain, the other uncertain. Can a man hesitate to
seize the former ?

" JOHN ORRIDGE."
" I begged he would read it attentively, and that
I would come to him soon. I went to his room a
little before 10, and remained in earnest conversa-
tion with him till half-past 11. I told him that,
during the 30 years I have held my situation, I had
the satisfaction of assuring him that no man who
had been executed during that time had ever dared
to take the Sacrament in sullen silence about his
crime, or without confession ; that I well knew,
from his letters that I had seen, and other circum-
stances, that the line of defence lie bad adopted was
not the dictates of his own mind, at least far a long
time after his commitment, and that I was sure that
he would not, and dare not, take the Sacrament, and
remain silent, or deny being the guilty cause of the
death of poor Maria Martin. He then exclaimed,
Oh, Sir, I wish I had made a conAdent of you
before, I have often wished to have dQue it—but
you know, Sir, it was no use empleying a legal ad-
viser, and then not fQIlow his advice,' I told him
that up to the time of his conviction it was proper,
hut, that being over, all earthly considerations must
cease. He then exclaimed, lam a guilty man I
then went for a pen and ink, and began to ask him
the particulars of his offence, which I told him the
public supposed him to be guilty of. He said, ' Oh,
spare me—l can only mention to you the particulars
of how Maria came by her death--with this the
public must be satisfied ; I cannot say more.' I
then wrote the following confession, nearly Lis
own words. I read it to him attentively, and he
signed it with a firm hand, I '.,eft him e.bout half-
past one o'clock, and rni men tell me he laid very
still, and vippeared to sleep throughout the night.
n On Saturday he told a respectable individual,
whom I had asked to sit and read to him, that he
was guilty of the forgery:upou Messrs. Alexander's
hank, and that he httd been assured the money Iwo
paid; the; are some patta of the f9regoing state-
ment which he' also mentioned to the same individual.
He also expressed much, horror at the thoughts of
being- dissected end anatomised. He also stated,
after he had signed the confession, that he felt great
respect for the girl, but that he had no intention, to
marry her at that time.
(Signed)

H JOHN ORRIDGE."
CO,NFESSION.

k, Bury Gaol, Aug. 10, 1828. Condemned Cell.,
" Sunday Evening, half-past 1 t.
" I acknowledge being guilty of the death of poor
Maria Martin, by shoottng her with a pistol. The
particulars are as'follow : —When we left her father's
house we began quarrelling about the burial of the
child, she apprehending that the place wherein it
was deposited would be found out. The quarrel
continued for about three quarters of an hour upon
this and about other subjects. A scuffle ensued, and
during the scuffle, and at the time I think that she
had hold of me, I took the pistol from the side-
pocket of my velveteen jacket, and fired. She fell,
and died in an instant ; I never saw even a
struggle. I was overwhelmed with agitation and
dismay ; the body fell nem. the front doors on the
floor of the barn. A vast quantity of blood issued
from the wound, and ran on to the gapr and
through the crevices. Having determined to bury
the body in the barn (about two hours after she was
dead), I went and borrowed the Spade of Mrs.
Stowe; but before I went there I dragged the body
from the barn into the chaff-house, and locked up
the barn. I returned again to the barn and began
to dig the hole, but the spade being a bad one, and
the earth firm and hard, I was obliged to go home
for a pick-axe and a better spade, with which I dug
the hole, and then buried the body. I think I
dragged the body by the handkerchief that was tied
round her neck—it was dark when I finished cover-
ing up the body. I went the next day and washed
the blood from off the barn floor. I declare to Al-
mighty God I had no sharp instrument about me,
and that no other wound but the one made by the
pistol was inflicted by me. 1 have been guilty of

great idleness, and at times led a dissolute life, but the fatal scaffold, and I have a lively hope of ob-
I hope, through the mercy of God, to be forgiven. taming mercy and pardon for my numerous offences.
.10NW.oRCORRIDDGEER..; May (leaven bless and protect you through this
" Witness to the signing by the said William Corder, transitory vale of misery, and which, when la e net
again, may it be in the regions of everlasting bliss.
" Sunday Evening, half-pass 12 o'clock.
Adieu, my love—for ever adieu ! In less than two
‘c Condemned Cell, 11 o'clock, Monday morning, hours 1 hope to be in Heaven. My last rayer is
" August 11. p
that God will endue you with patience, fortitude,
" The above confession was read over carefully to and resignation to his will. Rest assured his wise
the prisoner in our presence, who stated most so- providence works all things together fee good.—
lemnly it was true—that he had nothu,ig to add to, The awful sentence which has been paased on me,
or retract from it. and which I am now summoned to answer, I con-
" W. STOCKING, Chaplain.
„ fess is very just, and I die in peace with all mankind,
" T. R. PEOLNIES, Under-Sheriff. ____iy.
,rui grateful for the many kindnesses I have re-
teienvezdinfdrocrnoniLlria.
tOiornridfrgoem, anthdetlßieevr.e.ligiiro.usstioncs.ktiinnp(i:
In answer to a questiort from the Under-Sheriff,
he said, " that he thouht the ball had entered th.
who has promised to take my last words to to you."
at the end of a volume
[No signature.]
t'on
instrument o fhi
s
The
previousright e y
es.; a' t e mileen t,aisaid
that hishe
murder. The Under-Sheriff stated that Dr. Pro. above was written with pencil on a blank, leaf,
i 0
1 oft' n ligh of_i aN:Riai roly'rrcssdp.osSrCle.eldisor,emetrrindt°ttcton,erti.thiteil,i,atn\rovt€;2thui
Ileelet.,
appears to have been
husband, from the foal
with him in the barn at the htiinamdeclolorhresolbtfoorapmmitted the
ball
idt
eells.it•
tahesirseNdN•
lastitthhceloirni
itgfnehsatsti
eetynhe.e.
Hti time
ise quite
en
convinced the
the
. , beginning of the book :.-...,4 Mary
It would appear that this confession had relieved
•
composed, and inclined to enter into conversation '
his mind considerably. He was afterwards more
Corder attained his 24th year on the above slag,
with those who visited him. This is the statement
His last words on the scaffold were—" 1 deserve
made by those who attended him ; but, judging from
my fate—l have offended my God—may lie Inve.
his appearance in the Chapel this morning, no change 111
mercy en me . had taken place. At half-past nine the bell rang for
attending the execution "y ,
14:1811')dEi,'N'Villiam Corder, agbil:rt
prayers, when the prisenera of different classes were The crowd ~ .
ou,
.9...; rea.o„„d
led into the Chapel. Corder shortly afterwards fol-about in tke morn-
lowed, accompanied by Mr. Orridge. He walked row quarters,
ing they were seen pout? g . all but
ix without any support. He was dressed in a dark- chiefly from that part .
of the colbl‘y of which Corder
. ten thousand. A.tmaniterf I) h
..
coloured frock coat, black waistcoat, and blue was a native. Chaise:, gigs, carts, and even wag.
trousers, with shoes and stockings. He was put gone, some of them with ten, eleven, and fourteen
into a pew by himself, where he sat down on the persons in each, Wee put in requisition on the,
end of a bench close to the door. He covered his ocomion.

face with his handkerchief, leaning hia elbow on his
knee, and remained in this position during the whole
of the service. The Chaplain read the Penitential
Service—the 51et Psalm—the 15th chapter 2d Co-
rinthians, and a prayer for persons in his situation.
No part of it, however, seemed to excite in him any
emotion. Even that part of it which alluded to the
manner in which the young woman had met with her
death, " Deal not with wens I dealt with my sister,
when she cried and I regarded her not," produced
PO visible impression. He neither knelt nor stood
up during any part of the service; and, indeed,
altogether appeared quite unconscious of what
was going on. When the service was over he walked
out unsupported. He walked, however, very ill,
and appeared to be lame; but this arose, probably,
from a weakness in his limbs, owing to utter
exhaustion. lie was conveyed back to his cell,
where he remained till the Under Sheriff announced
to him that the time was come, and that it would
be necessary to submit to the usual preparations for
execution. He immediately assented, and followed
the Under-Sheriff to the cell immediately below
that in which he had been confined. Whilst his
arms were pinioned and his wrists tied, he con-
tinued every-now and then exclaiming in a whisper—
" May God forgive me !" About a quarter'to twelve
all was ready, and the procession proceeded towards
the place of execution. On his way he passed by
the yards in which the other prisoners were con-
fined, and was conducted to the grate of each, for
the purpose of bidding them adieu. On reaching
the grate of the first he seemed quite at a loss what
he should do. He stood hanging down his head,
sighing most piteously, till those who supported
him at length led him forward to the grating, when
he shook hands with all the prisoners in turn. Except,
on two occasions, he did not utter a syllable. Two of
rG4aodniebe slasendy
schhaekpinrgisokhealn•sdhsewmitehnttiohielemd
sbayi
at,ll after
His haggard look, hia feeble and exhausted frame,
and the near approach of his fate, excited, in all
%vhe saw hitn, great compassion. Several shed
tears, and appeared quite overpowered by the visible
distress under which the unhappy man laboured.
During the whole of the procession, however, and
indeed to the very last, he did not shed a single tear.
After traversing the garden, the procession at
length arrived in view of the door which led through
the garden wall to the scaffold, When the Chaplain
commenced the Funeral Service, on repeating the
words
" am the resurrection and• the life," the
prisoner gave a sort of invaLntary struggle and
groan, but did not utter P. word. The Clergyman
continued reading the service till he passed the door
and mounted the scaffold. The view of the crowd
at this time was highly impressive. The whole field
was completely filled with spectators, all of them
uncovered, and the utmost silence prevailed. A great
number of females were among the crowd, and some
of them quite close to the barrier that surrounded the
scaffold, In the adjoining fields were groups seated
on the grass, and gentlemen on horseback, waiting
to see the conclusion of the tragic scene. The day
was uncommonly fine, the country around is beau-
ful in the extreme, and even the most unconcerned
spectator could not help contrasting the scene around
with the melancholy and forlorn condition of the
miserable being whose untimely end had collected
them together. The two attendants led him for-
ward to the platform. The Under Sheriff, the Go-
vernor of the gaol, mind about half a dozen indivi-
duals stood behind, and a considerable number
were at the foot of the scaffold within the barrier.
The gibbet had nothing of that horrible appearance
of the place of execution at Newgate. Instead of
the cross beam with hooks, and the other apparatus
for execution, nothing was seen but a simple scaf-
fold of very small siae; with the platform, anc's over it
a slender beam carved like the end of a bridge, with
with two. cur three holes in it for inserting the ropes.
T4e executioner stood with the lope in his hand as
the prisoner approached, but it did not produce any
visible impression, nor even seem to attract his no-
tice. He did not at all turn his eyes to the gibbet,
but remained in that state of stupor and insensibility
which he had displayed throughout. The execu-
tioner immediately placed the cap on his head, drew
it over his oyes, and then adjusted the rope. Mr.
Orridge shortly after came forward, direated the cap
to he raised, and asked the prisoner if he had any
request or further statentent te. snake. Mr. Orridge
gave his reply to the crowd in the following words
—.‘ He acknowledges the justness of his sentence,
and wishes to die in peace with all mankind,' The
executioner. immediately descended, awl the attend-
ants withdrew, leaving the prisomer alone; but he
was in such a weak and exhausted state that he
swung to one side apparently in a swoon. One of the
officers stood behind him, and held him up till the at-
taching cod was cut, when the platform. fell witb.cmt
arty signal from the prisoner, and before the Clergyman
had time to begin the Funesal, Service, The execu-
tioner seized him by the knees,ried. held him for some
time while he struggled inthe agonies of death. He
held him for about two minutes in this way, when all
suffering appeared to be over, though fully ten mi-
nutes afterwards a convulsive movement was ob-
served. The body was left hangiug for an hour,
then cut down, and taken in a cart with a little
straw to the Shire-hail, where the surgeons were in
attendance, to prepare for dissection, This, it ap-
pears, is the practice of the borough. Two itaisions
were made in the breast, the skin taken off, and the
muscles exposed to view. The body was after-
wards laid out on a table in the middle of the Court,
qiiite naked, with the exception of the .ttrousers,ted
shoes, and stockings, and the public were admi
'but the
to see it till the evening. One of hie eyes.
open, and the mouth in a similar position
suffering. 011
face did not exhibit any symptoms
.about two
the right side of the neck was a redtr:
cit. eet of sew-
inches long. This, probably,
}Tame flaw of blood
fula, and had been increased 1)Y a to
five feet ‘ c'll
vas half
the head. All round the neck
rtn'islar Lark llowislt 'nark'
and !s the
produced by the rope,
wrists. The body measured five inches,
the head uncommon! the frame was rather. slender,
• • dining to red, and the face covered
y
long, the hair in
with freckles. From the h I engt of
the heard it ap-
pearedi
that he hadnot been shaved since his coi-
viction. Previous
to leaving the cell he • gave to Mr.
Stocking a book, to be delivered to his wife, with
the following words addressed
to her:
Cendeinned Cell, Eleven o'clock.
" life's loved companion, lam now going to

We had Ishnost forgotten to etate that, imme-
diately itrier the body was removed, the rope evle
eelliPeg at the rate of one guinea the inch, and it me
pears that a portion of it was purchased for the Cam
bridge Museum. This is quite in keeping with the
carrying off the boards and other relics from the Red
Barn, and only shows that the English have th,
most singular fancy for keepsakes of any people ie;
the world.
After Corder's apprehension, and previous to the
Coroner's Inquest, it will be recollected that Mr-
Humphreys was professionally employed as his Soli.
titer, and that gentleman closely watched his ease,
and made himself master of every circumstance con-
nected with it. After Corder's committal it very
naturally suggested itself to his family that some
line of defence should be got up preparatory to hie
trial. Mr. Humphreys was, of course, consulted oe
this subject, and after due deliberation, and minutely
weighing all the evidence produced before the Co-
roner and Jury, Mr. Humphreys was decidedly of
opinion that Corder's best defence was to keep him-
self perfectly silent ; and the experience of fife!
years' practice in Criminal Courts fully justified hiv2
in that opinion. Corder, however, was not satietoeti
with this mode, but Mr. Humphreys still vonei-
dered it to be the best, and again recommended
it, considering it possible that the case for the
prosecution might fail upon some legal techni-
eality ; but the strongest point was the probability
of the prosecutors trot being able to establish. the,
identity of the body found in the barn as being
that of Maria Martin ; but Corder, with the advice
of his friends, persisted in making a grand stand
in tine shape of a complete exculpation of the charge.
(1' murder,
,and it was in vain that Nir. Humphreys
advised him to adopt a different course. At
length, finding Corder to be resolute in . his deter-
mination to make a defence, and feeling the respon-
ceoibnislieqtyutehnactes shouldheladplaucletidmuapteolnyp
him,
ro vbee because
ii f
th
t lo
es-
friends of Corder would probably blame Mr. Hum-
phreys for the result, he suggested a plan of defence
that might, by possibility, cut down the crime from
murder to manslaughter; that plan was as follows--
that Corder should kdroit being with Maria Martin
on the morning of the murder at the Red Barn, and
that she upbraided him with regard to the five-
pound note that has been alluded to in the evidence,
as sent by her former paramour ; that a quarrel was
the consequence, and that she struck him, which so
exasperated him that he, in a moment of irritation.,
assaulted her again in the manner which caused her
death, and thus take away the capital part of the
charge. Mr. Humphreys did not mean Corder to
tell the Jury how or in what manner or with what
instruments he inflicted the wounds, but to leave
that entirely open to the consideration of the,
Court ; so that either of the wounds found or,
the body might be applicable to the story.
This plan was, at the time, considered to tee
the best defence, but afterwards Mr. Charnocli,
who is a relation of Corder's family, was con-
sulted, and he disapproved of it, and drew up
tnch,clitiniegonitle.td
the defence which was subsequently adopted, and
which is already before the public. That Mr.
Charnock acted from the best motives, and with
the utmost zeal in Corder's behalf, there is not the
least doubt, notwithstanding the result; but from
the moment Mr. Humphreys found the plan of Cor-
der's defence was altered, he felt it to be his duty
to shift the responsibility from his own shoulders,
so that he might not thereafter be accused of framing
a course of defence which, in his own judgment, and
from his long experience, he was satisfied was not
the most prudent ; he therefore declined further in-
terference, and left the matter entirely in the hands
of Mr. Charnock, who was indefatigable in his exer-
tions until the last moment.
There were some obstacles that presented them-
selves in the shape of engaging Counsel. It will
be recollected that the papers of the day asserted
that Mr. Adolphus was to be the prisoner's leading
Counsel, and that gentleman was applied to
on the subject; but as the trial did not take place
on the Home Circuit, which is the Circuit Mr.
Adolphus goes, that gentleman required to have a
special retainer, with a fee of 200 guineas to go to
Bury St. Edmund's. This sum, although it appears.
large, would, perhaps, not more than have remit-
nerated the Learned Gentleman for the loss be
would have sustained by leaving his business on the
Horne Circuit ; but the fee was considered too large
drews was next applied to. The Learned. Setfee.ano
et
consented to go for 100 guineas; but, just before
r
by the
ntaegnet,a
NiA:
theaniys-
commencement of the trial, he felt himself so
unequal to
the
indisposed as to consideri.jutailt(illiiimitsteelph4ldrit:onnldeetareledi.rtineicrie
fa-
tigue; and Mr. Broderick was then selected
.e... to go
specially down to conduct the
LTOE-rEA,WEsTgr,IsT.E-AtlllllPe:TlNecTa.sclurt(f
This latter gentleman,
guineas as a special fee, bold! h. ordinary fees fol
consultations, tkc. result of the trial, however
Persisted in by himzelf, against
we undserti_,ute't'eatth.eetvLeeta,
r.n4e,id
The ty of thus 1 '
has proved the utter i
money ; although'
by the prisoner's
proceeded to Doneatter, n:onfil:thuaesteld'XillairyteEsehte:TßelnfilidpntE:HAgtiaso:ftitg:,eßhW'otEriokrr:'s:llllo,i7A73:,
ids his house at Grove, according to his usual custom, and
efrived atache Old Angel Inn, on his way to the Quartpi
e:asious Rotherham. Betweek eight and nine o'clock,
Ml*-7LEt's clerk, previously to retiring for the night, de•
n()sited the portmanteau and the treasurer's box, containing
contents+,
the necessary sums for the riding disbursements at the
Quarter Sessions, in his master's bed .room. Soon after
eleven o'clock, Mr. LEE retired to his bed-room, which he
had shortly afterwards occasion to leave fur a few minutes..,
during which time he heard some person pascing with a
hurried step down the staircase, having apparently COMP'
from his bed-room. This circumstance did not at the tim.,,
excite any suspicion ; in the morning, however, Mr. Lr,
fully secreted in another part of the room. It now turn,
tcicGlioltoieueditnrllendtralssedetimlolv:oivacbde,ei,un.
but was
I sdr,,,,
siovda
ss
save
vi
oieettriz
if,:outntdhellitsh poiefrtit]naiainrtneiasLeiorelienteolnyeystrbipopxed,
woifliet4was
care_
out that certain suspicious characters, supposed to be con
meted with the rank rubbers, had been seen lurking about
the inn in the evening, probably with a premeditated desigr,
t i secure the worthy Treasurer's cash-box; and that about
t so o'clock the next morning, they proceeded from a bou,,
io the neighbourhood of the Angel, in a gig, tc. York --
Li cdc Mentors,