Noble Blood - How the Duke of Monmouth Lost His Head

Episode Date: June 18, 2024

King Charles II's oldest illegitimate son, the Duke of Monmouth, was handsome and charismatic. But more importantly, he was Protestant, which made him an attractive alternative to the Catholic Duke of York, next in line for the throne. Eventually, the power and propoganda would go to Monmouth's head.Support Noble Blood:— Bonus episodes, stickers, and scripts on Patreon— Noble Blood merch— Order Dana's book, 'Anatomy: A Love Story' and its sequel 'Immortality: A Love Story'See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-heart podcast. Guaranteed Human. Will Ferrell's Big Money Players and IHart Podcast presents soccer moms. So I'm Leanne. Yeah. This is my best friend, Janet. Hey. And we have been joined at the hips since high school.

Absolutely. A redacted amount of years later, we're still joined at the hip. Just a little bit bigger hips. This is a podcast. We're recording it as we tailgate our youth soccer games in the back of my Honda Odyssey. With all the snacks and drinks. Why did you get hard seltzer instead of beer? They hit a bogo. Well, then you got them. Listen to soccer moms on the IHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of IHeart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Manky. Listener discretion advised. The executioner, a man named Jack Ketch, was already famous in London for a bungled execution. So you couldn't really blame the Duke of Monmouth as he walked to the Skagit. scaffolding on Tower Hill for wanting to take a few extra precautions. According to the apocryphal story at the time, the Duke of Monmouth offered Jack Ketch a few shillings as a bribe for the executioner to make the beheading as swift and as painless as possible.

Well, there are a few possible ways to understand what happened next. Maybe Jack Ketch's dignity was offended that the Duke tried to bribe him at all. Maybe one of the Duke's enemies paid the executioner an even greater bribe. Or maybe Jack Ketch was simply so unskilled with an axe that what happened to the Duke of Monmouth was him just trying his best. Because what happened to the Duke of Monmouth was a disaster. In the end, it took five strokes of the axe to sever the Duke's head from his own. body, and I've actually seen that number in some sources as high as eight. According to some, after the second blow, the Duke actually lifted his head up enough

to look back at his executioner in dismay. It was a bloody, grisly end for a man who in his 36 years had lived a life of extraordinary upward mobility and promise. The Duke of Monmouth was the eldest illegitimate son of King Charles II, born back when the would-be-king, was still in exile during the English Commonwealth under Oliver Cromwell. The first decade or so of Monmouth's life was chaos, but eventually fate would lead his father back to the throne of England. The Duke of Monmouth would get a last name, a title, and access to the heart of English court. But pride is a funny thing, and in the end, the Duke would make the deadly choice to attempt to fight for his claim to the throne. Was Monmouth simply a fool, gallantly attempting to seize power in a fit of hubris,

or was he manipulated by others who saw him as a convenient Protestant figurehead? From the time he was born, the Duke of Monmouth was at the mercy of political powers around him. He was ferried around Europe by his mother as she sought money. He was imprisoned by the Cromwell Republic, kidnapped by his own father's men, and eventually brought into the fold of nobility at his father's whim. Later, when the Duke would attempt to take fate into his own hands, it would lead to his head on a block, with five strokes of a blunt axe coming down to sever that head gruesomely from his body.

I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. The future King Charles II was a teenager when the English Civil War broke out, and though early on he was fighting in order to protect his father's crown, at a certain point it became obvious that for his own protection, Charles needed to leave the country. His mother, Henrietta Maria, was French, and she had already left England for her home country. Charles joined his mother there,

but he wasn't content waiting on the sidelines doing nothing, when he thought there was more he could be doing for his father and the English monarchy. The French seemed to have a wait-and-see response to the whole thing, and Charles wasn't having much luck rallying support. Charles figured he'd have more luck in the Dutch Republic, where his sister Mary was married to William II, the Prince of Orange. And so in the summer of 1648, Charles left France for the Hague. Ultimately, the royalist support wouldn't amount to much,

but there was a permanent and important consequence to Charles II's time spent in the Hague. It was there that he met a woman named Lucy Walter. Both Charles and Lucy were 18, and though it's possible that Charles had had sexual relationships earlier in his life, Lucy is his first recorded mistress. Unfortunately, Charles did not have the luxury of getting to enjoy his first puppy love. Charles I, his father, King of England, was put on trial by the new parliamentary government of England, found guilty of treason against his people, and sentenced to die by beheading. Poor Charles II, abroad in Europe, desperate to save his father.

sent a literal carte blanche, a signed letter that would have given the parliamentarians any concession they wanted in order to spare his father's life, but it didn't make a difference. King Charles I was executed on January 30, 1649, wearing two shirts so that shivering in the cold weather wouldn't be mistaken for fear. At that moment, Charles I's unborn grandchild, the future, Duke of Monmouth was in Lucy Walter's belly, probably far enough along that she was just beginning to feel him move. Charles II was now technically king of England, but he was an unrecognized king and uncrowned by his own country. Though he still harbored ambitions to fight and overthrow Cromwell and take back England, in order to survive in exile, he was forced into the humiliating position

of existing at the mercy of other sovereign leaders. His relationship with Lucy probably only lasted that one summer, and though he was certainly aware that she had born him a son, Charles wasn't involved at all in the young boy's early life, who was named James. Lucy Walter is a figure with a bad reputation, both back in her own time and also by most historical accounts today. But I have some sympathy for her.

She was a beautiful woman who bore a child out of wedlock, whose survival depended on her being able to charm powerful men. That way, she wasn't too dissimilar from Charles II in exile. Lucy aligned herself with a number of wealthy gentlemen who provided for her temporarily, giving plenty of fodder for gossip in the community around the Dutch Republic. Lucy's reputation was so bad that Charles and his men organized an attempt to kidnap Charles's son away from Lucy. Lucy assumed that the kidnapping scheme was Cromwell and his people trying to kidnap the rightful king's illegitimate son, not, you know, the son's actual father.

But either way, the attempt was publicly bungled, mostly because Lucy started screaming that her son was taken from her. and enlisting people to help her find her child. It was a massive humiliation to all involved. It's fair to say that the early life of the future Duke of Monmouth, Little James, was tumultuous. He and his mother were sometimes impoverished, scrounging for lodging in their next meal, and sometimes they were surrounded by trappings of enormous wealth. At one point, Lucy and Little James went back to England, ostentiful. to settle an inheritance, where they were arrested by Cromwell's government.

Before he had hair on his face, the little future Duke of Monmouth was imprisoned in the Tower of London, yet another chaotic chapter in an already chaotic childhood. Fortunately, for both little James and his mother, the imprisonment was brief. Cromwell let Lucy and her son go. If you're wondering why, it's because of the prison. they realized Lucy was doing more harm to Charles' cause out of prison as a free woman. Her reputation was so bad by this point that the fact that they could say, this is the king's mistress, the type of loose woman he has children with illegitimately, allowed them to frame Charles II as an immoral loush compared to the rigorous religious discipline of the Commonwealth.

It was an, is this your king? propaganda campaign. Charles fully recognized Lucy as a political liability, and in April 1658, he orchestrated another attempt to kidnap his son away from her. This time it was successful, and little nine-year-old James was spirited away from his mother and brought to France, where he could be raised, respectively. James would never see his mother again. Lucy Walter died eight months later, reportedly of venereal disease, which seems like the type of cruel rumor someone would have made up, given her reputation at the time, but also is a legitimate possibility of her having been alive and sexually active in the 17th century. In France, little James was put in the care of a man named Lord William Crofts, a famously gregarious friend of Charles's, who was known for being charming and easy to befriend,

which to me probably does feel like the best type of person to end up with if you've been kidnapped away from your mother before your 10th birthday and brought to live in a strange country at the behest of a famous father you had never really met up until that point. Little James took on the last name Crofts, though he would take another surname later in his life, which is why I think you may have noticed I've defaulted to calling him the future Duke of Monmouth throughout the episode, especially because there will be another very important James, the Duke of York, the brother of King Charles II and future King James II, who's going to show up and play a major role in this story.

But back to our little James. James Crofts. It's at this point that he actually got to meet his father, though Charles wasn't actually involved in the raising of little James. But James did get plenty of time with another family member, Charles' mother, the former Queen Henrietta Maria. Henrietta Maria adored her little grandson, who by all accounts was just a delightful child, who won over everyone he met almost immediately, even if they were reticent to accept, A, the prospect of an illegitimate child, or B, an illegitimate child with such a scandalous mother. In fact, Henrietta Maria was so enamored of her little grandson that people were worried

she was actually becoming too much of a Catholic influence on him. And it was essential that little James was raised to be a good Protestant, especially when a few years later, the miraculous happened, and England restored their monarchy and brought Charles II back to be the king after the death of Oliver Cromwell. There's a quote from this period that I find incredibly amusing. It's not strictly relevant to our episode,

but I'm going to take the excuse to read it anyway because it is one of the most fiery takedowns of Nepo Babies I've ever read. It's from Sir Henry Vane. Vane was not actually a fan in the end of Cromwell as a leader, but he was absolutely not going to tolerate Cromwell's son, Richard, in charge. Vane said, quote, One could bear a little with Oliver Cromwell. His merit was so extraordinary that our judgments might be blinded by it.

He made his way to empire by the most illustrious actions. He had under his command an army that had made him, conqueror, and a people that had made him their general. But as for Richard Cromwell, his son, who is he? We have seen that he had a sword by his side, but did he ever draw it? Is he fit to get obedience from a mighty nation who could never make a footman obey him? Yet we must recognize this man as our king under style of protector, a man without birth, without courage, without conduct. For my part I declare, sir, it should never be said that I made such a man my master. But anyway, England decided that if they were going to obey a nepo baby as king,

it was at least going to be one with noble blood. And after more than a decade abroad in exile, a monarch without a crown, King Charles II was finally able to return to England triumphant. And as soon as he was settled, he invited along his son, James, who was then 12 years old. In some situations, being the illegitimate son of a king does not mean much. Your influence and power depend entirely on what your father, the king, decides to do with you. Charles decided to treat little James like a son. On one hand, having a son gave the impression of virility and implied, the promise of a dynasty. And on the other hand, Charles genuinely liked his little boy.

Samuel Pepys, the famous diarist, wrote a lot about just how affectionate the king was towards little James. He wrote that Charles always showed, quote, fondness to the little Duke, and that James was, quote, so dandled by the king. On February 14, 1663, Charles made James Duke of Monmouth, Earl of Doncaster, and Baron Scott of Tyndale, given precedence over all dukes who weren't of legitimate royal blood. He was also made Knight of the Garter. Monmouth was treated as a member of the royal family. His first coat of arms didn't have the traditional heraldic marker to identify bastards. But even with all of that, there was never a moment where Charles publicly or even privately alluded to even the possibility that the line of succession might change

or that Monmouth would be legitimized. Charles might have adored his son, given him money and titles, and even not referred to him with the typical identifiers used for bastards at the time, but the next king, if Charles didn't have any legitimate sons, was always going to be his inconveniently Catholic brother, James. I think part of that clarity is because Charles lived through the English Civil War. He saw the beheading of his father and spent years in exile. He recognized how fragile the monarchy could be.

The monarchy needed all of the power that it imbued itself with, including the notion of legitimacy and legitimate succession. Still, that didn't stop Charles and the rest of the country from recognizing the Duke of Monmouth as a new power player at court. In 1663, he was also married to one of the wealthiest heiresses in Scotland, Anne Scott, Countess of Bucklew. It was actually her mother who came up with the idea for the match, incredibly cleverly.

Her husband had died and they had only two daughters, and there were male cousins circling their inheritance, trying to get it. Anne's mother recognized that by linking her family with the kings, Charles would have a vested interest in protecting their inheritance. So she wrote to Charles even before the Duke of Monmouth had arrived at court, offering her wealthy daughter to this illegitimate son, sight unseen. It was a brilliant gamble that worked. Charles protected the inheritance and James married Anne Scott, taking her last name as part of the inheritance agreement. So there's last name number two. And so, despite being illegitimate, the Duke of Monmouth grew up in a rarefied position

of power, with a rich wife and significant title, given a pension and enjoying an intimately close relationship with his father. And perhaps, like you might expect from a very powerful, rich young man, he lived extravagantly, womanizing and racking up debts through a life's style politely described as indulgent. To be fair, Monmouth also had a reputation as an adept soldier, and after he was made Captain General in 1678, he won some real military successes during the Third Anglo-Dutch War. But his close relationship with his father, the king, made him cocky, and he had a violent temper. He was involved in a drunken brothel fight back in 1671, where a young officer was stabbed and killed. Whether Monmouth or his friend had killed the man

isn't known, but both were given quick royal pardons to make the entire thing disappear. A year earlier in 1970, Sir John Coventry had made a joke in front of the House of Commons about King Charles's passion for actresses. Monmouth organized several men to attack Coventry, and they ended up slitting his nose to the bone when he was walking home late at night. Monmouth was not punished for the crime, but Parliament did pass the Coventry Act of 1671, making assaults with mutilation a capital felony. Part of Monmouth's cockiness also apparently manifested in proclaiming to people

that he was actually legitimate, saying that his father had been married to his mother Lucy Walter and Thurne. threatening to kill anyone who disagreed. It's possible or a generous reading that for the first nine years or so of Monmouth's life, that his mother had told him that, and so he genuinely believed it. Or maybe cynically, he recognized that there was a universe where if he positioned himself correctly, he might go from being Duke to being King of England. Because that sort of chatter had already begun.

Monmouth was a handsome, charismatic, successful military man, but more important than all of that, he was Protestant. It was obvious that his father genuinely really liked him. The king's wife had several miscarriages and eventually it became obvious that Charles would have no legitimate children. Was it so far-fetched to imagine that Monmouth might become king? There were rumors that when Lucy Walter was dying, she gave her final confession and told the priest that she had been legally married to Charles and that the proof was in a little black box hidden away somewhere. The box was, of course, never found, and any validity to the rumor was never proven, but the rumor was still pervasive enough that King Charles himself tried to quash it, declaring before a privy council

that he had never been married to anyone but his wife, Queen Catherine, and ordering that the source of the rumor be investigated. But still, rumors continued to swirl. There were plenty of Protestants in England who would prefer to believe a flimsy rumor than get behind Charles's brother, James, who had converted to Catholicism in 1668 and also married a Catholic second wife.

The religious furrowy. in England reached a boiling point in 1678 with what was known as the Popish plot. Word came in of an elaborate conspiracy organized by Jesuit Catholics to assassinate King Charles II in order to get his Catholic brother onto the throne. News of the plot sent England into a frenzy and anti-Catholic sentiment was whipped into even greater heights. The only problem, the only problem? The plot was a complete hoax, made up by an anti-Catholic fanatic, but it had very real consequences. Parliament passed through an act declaring that Catholics couldn't hold high office, and the next year they attempted to pass a bill that would exclude Catholics, specifically James the Duke of York,

from becoming king. King Charles, the perennial advocate for his brother and line of succession, literally dissolved Parliament to prevent the bill from passing, and then had to do that again twice more. Public sentiment was obvious. There was a clear faction that wanted a Protestant on the throne, and by the end of the 1670s, the Duke of Monmouth, known as the Protestant Duke, was a very appealing possibility. In order to try and quiet the fervor, King Charles reluctantly made the decision to send his beloved son into exile. He was also sending the Duke of York away, Charles told his son, and that that James would only go if this James went to. And so Monmouth left, filled with a sense of self-pity,

over to the Dutch Republic where he was puffed up by a cadre of Protestant yes men that only fueled his sense of righteousness. And Monmouth's frustration became too much, when he heard that the Duke of York was brought back to the kingdom to govern Scotland. So he had to while away his time with the Prince of Orange while the Duke of York was ruling Scotland? It wasn't fair. And so Monmouth made a rash decision. Without getting permission from his father, the king, Monmouth secretly returned to England. But London didn't allow his return to stay a secret. Protestants were so happy that he was back, that bonfires were lit throughout the city, a show of public support, that angered King Charles, who refused to see his son. Monmouth was banished

again, but this time he didn't leave, beginning a cold war between father and son that wasn't thawed, even when Monmouth's wife, Anna, and Charles's mistress, Nell Gwynne, tried to beg the king to forgive him. Monmouth began a slow parade across the western countryside, rallying support. He didn't outright claim the throne or to be the rightful heir, but it was obvious that he, the charming Protestant Duke, was making himself known as an alternative to the Catholic Duke of York, and his supporters did plenty of promotion on his behalf. One sign of how devoted his followers were to the idea that he was the rightful heir to the throne, was that a woman with a disease called Scrofula, with a hugely swollen neck, pressed her hands against Monmouth's skin, and he said,

God bless you. Allegedly, two weeks later, she was healed, a miracle of what was known as the king's touch. The Duke of Monmouth wasn't actively spreading the idea he was the heir. Honestly, he probably just said, bless you, because a lady with a lady with a woman. huge neck disease shoved her hand up against him and he was being polite. But people were calling him the next rightful king, and when they did, he didn't correct them. Ironically, that scrofula incident actually became a huge propaganda point for the anti-monmouth party, because they were able to make fun of it over and over again through propaganda. When another exclusion bill was sent through the House of Commons in 1680

that advocated bypassing James the Duke of York and having the throne go directly to his eldest Protestant daughter, Mary, Monmouth publicly supported the bill, saying it would behoove the king and the government to acknowledge and embrace public opinion for their own safety. But to King Charles, it was a betrayal.

The bill was ultimately rejected and Charles said of his eldest son, it is a Judas kiss he gives me. But Charles couldn't have known about the betrayal that would come just a few short years later. Details of another assassination conspiracy against King Charles came out in June of 1683, and this time it wasn't a hoax.

It was what's now known as the Rye House plot, a plan to assassinate both King Charles II and James the Duke of York, and put Monmouth on the throne. But Charles and James' travel plans had changed unexpectedly, and the assassination attempt was never made. As soon as the king heard of the conspiracy, he went into the rooms of Anna, the Duke of Monmouth's wife,

and he wept. He knew that his son had not actively been trying to kill him, but he knew that the scent of Monmouth's treason was in the air, and this plot put his beloved, son's life in danger. That was why he was crying. In the end, 12 people implicated in the plot were executed, including the last woman executed in England for a political crime, with another 10 imprisoned, 10 sent into exile, and one killing himself in prison. The king was heartbroken at the fact that Monmouth could even be tied to the plot at all, even though he was sure that his son

wouldn't have been actively involved in organizing an assassination. For his own safety, Monmouth was advised to go into exile again. He fled to Brussels in April 1684, which to his enemies only looked like he was running away because he was guilty. Of course, there was actual evidence tying Monmouth to the plot. Not necessarily that he knew the full extent of it, or actually took it seriously, but he had been in contact with some of the people who had planned it.

Still, the king gave Monmouth a full pardon, and even the Duke of York forgave Monmouth after Monmouth apologized. But then that apology leaked, and Monmouth denied ever making it, and the Duke of York was furious. Yet again, his illegitimate nephew kept stirring up trouble and getting away with it. In February 1685, King Charles the 6th, died. It was a sudden and mysteriously quick illness that overtook him. The king was only 54 years old. James the Duke of York, his brother, became King James II of England, and the Protestant Whig faction

that opposed him sprang into action, arriving to see Monmouth in exile in order to persuade him to try to rise up against his uncle. The Duke declined. I am now so much in love with a retired life that I am never like to be fond of making a bustle in the world again. But still, Monmouth's Protestant supporters continued to make their case. A Mr. Smith arrived from England with word that the country was for Monmouth, that he could join forces with the Earl of Argyle in Scotland and overthrow James II. It's here that the Duke of Monmouth makes his fatal error in judgment. I think to be fair to him, we have to remember the full context. This is a young man 35 years old whose father just died, suddenly and mysteriously, the man who had been the provider

of structure and stability in his life. He's mourning and probably not thinking as rationally as he could be. Monmouth is fundamentally a hot-headed man, a soldier, and a man used to spending money and getting pleasure quickly. He's not accustomed to delayed gratification. Patience is not his strong suit. And perhaps most importantly at this point, he's surrounded by people telling him that rising up against his uncle

isn't just a strategically possible move. It's a smart move. What Monmouth did not know was that the Mr. Smith, who delivered word from England, was actually a paid agent of the Protestant faction, action trying to get Monmouth to join them. Their attempt at rebellion they knew would be useless without their figurehead. A monarch is ultimately a figurehead, a person meant to represent a nation. Monmouth would never become king, but his own pride, distorted by praise and propaganda,

meant that he permitted himself to become a useful rallying point for a doomed movement. And so despite his promise that he was enjoying retirement, on May 30, 1685, Monmouth sailed for the southwest of England with three small ships, four field guns, 1,500 muskets, and fewer than 100 supporters. His fairly limited resources were further diminished when two of those top supporters got into a fight over who would get to ride on the better horse. One killed the other, and the survivor was put under arrest and sent back to the boat. But still, as they marched, their numbers grew to around 6,000 men.

But it was a disorganized group, mainly artists and normal farm workers armed with tools. They weren't professional soldiers. They were rag-tag non-conformists. Actually, a young Daniel Defoe, who would go on to write Robinson Crusoe, was among them. They had no champ. The Royal Navy captured Monmouth's ships, which meant he had no chance of escape, and ultimately just a few short weeks after the invasion on July 6th, the group was defeated at the Battle of Seedmore.

The Monmouth Rebellion was officially over. Around 2,000 of Monmouth's men were killed. The Royalists lost just 27 soldiers. Monmouth actually managed to escape and lasted a week disguised as a week. a shepherd foraging for food in the Somerset marshlands, but in the end he was captured in a ditch. As a courtesy, King James II met with his nephew the Duke, a meeting during which Monmouth begged for his life and even offered to convert to Catholicism. But James was never going to pardon treason. The Duke of Monmouth had sealed his own fate. James gave him one final kindness, or at least

it seemed like a kindness at the time. The Duke of Monmouth would not be hanged. He would beheaded instead, a death befitting a nobleman. That's the story of the Duke of Monmouth, but keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear a little bit more about how the legends of Monmouth's legitimacy have persisted throughout history.

What's up, everyone? I'm Ego Wodeham. My next guest, you know from Stepbrothers, Anchorman, Saturday Night Live and the Big Money Players Network. It's Will Ferrell. Woo, whoo, woo, woo, who, woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. I went and had lunch with them one day, and I was like, and Dad, I think I want to really give this a shot.

I don't know what that means, but I just know the groundlings. I'm working my way up through, and I know it's a place that come, look for up and coming talent. He said, if it was based solely on talent, I wouldn't worry about you, which is really sweet. Yeah. He goes, but there's so much luck involved. And he's like, just give it a shot.

He goes, but if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration. It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat. Just hang in there. Yeah, it would not be. Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot of luck.

Listen to Thanks, Dad, on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcast. What's up, everyone? I'm Ego Wadam. My next guest, you know from Step Brothers Anchorman, Saturday Night Live, and the Big Money Players Network.

It's Will Ferrell. Woo. Woo. My dad gave me the best advice ever. I went and had lunch with them one day, and I was like, and dad, I think I want to really give this a shot. I don't know what that means,

but I just know the groundlings. I'm working my way up through, and I know it's a place they come, look for up and coming. talent. He said if it was based solely on talent, I wouldn't worry about you, which is really sweet. Yeah. He goes, but there's so much luck involved. And he's like, just give it a shot. He goes, but if you ever reach a point where you're banging your head against the wall and it doesn't feel fun anymore, it's okay to quit. If you saw it written down, it would not be an inspiration.

It would not be on a calendar of, you know, the cat, just hang in there. Yeah. It would not be Right, it wouldn't be that. There's a lot in luck. Listen to Thanks, Dad, on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Though the Duke of Monmouth was killed, he did have legitimate descendants with his wife, who carried on as the Dukes of Bucklew. Allegedly, when Queen Victoria was on the throne, the then-duke of Bucklew, came to her with an incredible document, the actual marriage certificate that proved Charles the Southw. and Lucy Walter had been married, and that the Duke of Monmouth was legitimate all along. But of course, such a document would put Queen Victoria's own legitimacy in question.

And so, as the unverifiable story goes, as a show of loyalty, the Duke threw the letter into the fireplace. Noble Blood is a production of I-Heart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Menke. Noble Blood is hosted by me, Danish Schwartz, with additional writing and researching by Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Courtney Sender, Julia Melani, and Armand Kasam. The show is edited and produced by Noemi Griffin and Rima Il K. Ali, with supervising producer Josh Thane and executive producers Aaron Manke, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from Iheart Radio, visit The the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. Will Ferrell's Big Money Players and IHart Podcasts presents soccer moms. So I'm Leanne.

Yeah. This is my best friend, Janet. Hey. And we have been joined at the hips since high school. Absolutely. A redacted amount of years later, we're still joined at the hip. Just a little bit bigger hips. This is a podcast.

We're recording it as we tailgate our youth soccer games in the back of my Honda Odyssey. With all the snacks and drinks. Why did you get hard seltzer instead of beer? Well, they had a bogo. Well, then you got them. Listen to soccer moms on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. This is an IHeart podcast. Guaranteed human.