Meet Roland the Farter: Medieval England’s Celebrity Flatulist
- dthholland
- Feb 12, 2023
- 5 min read
In the age of chivalry, monasteries and monarchs, land was rarely handed out lightly. Yet in 12th-century England, one rather singular individual managed to secure a manor and 30 acres (12 hectares) of prime Suffolk countryside not through valour in battle or ecclesiastical service, but by passing wind on command.
Roland le Petour, better known to posterity as Roulandus le Fartere, was no ordinary court entertainer. Likely serving as a jester in the royal household of King Henry II, Roland’s annual obligation to the Crown consisted of a performance uniquely his own: “un saut, un siflet, et un pet”—a jump, a whistle, and a fart—performed each Christmas Day before the assembled court. For this, he was rewarded not only with patronage but with tangible assets: land, privilege, and a feudal tenure to his name.
A Serious Tenure for a Comic Turn
Roland’s curious arrangement was recorded in the Liber Feodorum, or Book of Fees, a 13th-century register of landholdings held directly from the king. His estate, located at Hemingstone in Suffolk, was held under what is termed a serjeanty—a form of feudal service rendered in lieu of knightly duty. In this case, the personal service required was not military aid but the performance of a trifecta of bodily feats.
The record notes:
“The serjeanty, which formerly was held by Roland the Farter in Hemingston in the county of Suffolk, for which he was obliged to perform every year on the birthday of our Lord before his master the king, one jump, and a whistle, and one fart…”
Far from being a humorous footnote in an otherwise serious system of medieval landholding, Roland’s position underscores the sometimes bizarre confluence of duty and entertainment in the royal courts. That he was recorded at all suggests a degree of official recognition, however undignified the terms may now seem.
A Man, a Myth, a Mild Mystery
Despite his memorable performance, the historical trail of Roland le Petour quickly goes cold. Valerie Allen, medievalist and author of On Farting: Language and Laughter in the Middle Ages (2007), dug into the dusty records and fee ledgers of the time to uncover what little remains. Allen speculates that Roland may have first served under Henry I before continuing under Henry II. By the reign of Henry III, however, the mood had shifted. Roland’s unique talents were evidently no longer in royal favour, dismissed as “indecent”, and his lands were duly revoked.
It’s highly improbable Roland himself lived to serve three monarchs. More likely, the role was inherited or passed between individuals, with the performance becoming a kind of courtly tradition. Regardless, the Roland of legend has endured as the best-remembered example of medieval flatulism as feudal duty.
Medieval Wind: Morality and Mortality
But why farts? Beyond the obvious comedic value, flatulence in medieval thought carried deeper meaning. As Valerie Allen points out, gas was considered the byproduct of bodily decay—morally and theologically linked to mortality itself. “There was a lot of moralisation about farts and shit,” she writes, “that they are the living daily reminder that we are going to die and that’s all we are, we are mortal, and sinful as well.”
Far from being merely humorous, Roland’s act may have carried a memento mori element—a bodily reminder of humanity’s base nature dressed up in courtly performance. The humour of the act came with an undercurrent of philosophical reflection, however unconscious.
A Tradition with Deep Roots
Roland was not alone in wielding his posterior to professional ends. In medieval Ireland, there existed a known class of entertainers known as bruigedoire or braigetori—court farters. Some texts suggest that groups of such performers dined with the High King of Ireland himself, implying not only social legitimacy but elevated status.
In visual culture, this is borne out by John Derrick’s 1581 illustration The Image of Irelande, in which two farters can be seen in performance on the far right of a banquet scene.
Other civilisations embraced similar talents. Among the Innu people of Canada, Matshishkapeu—literally the Farting God—is a prominent mythological figure. He had the power to bestow or withhold gastrointestinal relief and was seen as more powerful even than the Caribou Master. After cursing the latter with agonising constipation, Matshishkapeu eventually relented—but only after receiving due reverence.
Saint Augustine of Hippo also recorded tales of flatulists, claiming that certain individuals could “produce musical sounds from their behinds (without any stink),” seemingly in harmony, and even with the effect of singing.
Japan too had its share. In the Edo period, misemono street shows featured “freak show” style entertainers. One performer, Kirifuri-hanasaki-otoko, is documented in 1774 as creating musical-sounding flatulence by ingesting air and releasing it in stylised bursts. An even earlier tradition, dating back to the Kamakura era (1185–1333), tells of heppiri otoko, farting men who danced and entertained aristocrats.
The Legacy of Le Petomane
In more recent times, Roland’s spiritual heir was surely Joseph Pujol, better known by his stage name Le Pétomane. A fixture of late 19th-century Paris and the Moulin Rouge, Le Pétomane brought professional flatulism to vaudeville heights. His act included imitating musical instruments, extinguishing candles, and even playing odes through what he called “anal control”.
“He dressed in a tuxedo and announced each sound as if he were presenting a music solo,” wrote Jim Dawson, author and self-declared “fartologist”. “Of course, the incongruence of a dignified gentleman letting farts only added to the humour.”
Despite the niche appeal, Le Pétomane drew immense crowds and was a sensation in Belle Époque Paris.
Flatulism in the Modern Age
Today, the art of flatulent performance has retreated to the peripheries of YouTube and internet subcultures. While modern society may prefer its entertainers less earthy, Roland’s legacy remains a potent reminder of a time when kings laughed at farts, and land tenure could hinge on a well-timed toot.
In a world increasingly governed by contracts, professionalism, and decorum, there’s something charmingly subversive about a man who could win royal favour through bodily gags—and hold property by means of passing wind.
Roland le Petour, however obscure, lingers as a strange and windy footnote in the story of English land law, feudal service, and royal entertainment. And if nothing else, he proves that laughter—especially the undignified, involuntary kind—has long held power in the highest of places.
Sources:
Liber Feodorum (Book of Fees), National Archives, UK
Valerie Allen, On Farting: Language and Laughter in the Middle Ages (Palgrave Macmillan, 2007)
John Derrick, The Image of Irelande, 1581
Jim Dawson, Who Cut the Cheese? A Cultural History of the Fart
Saint Augustine, The City of God, Book 14
National Diet Library of Japan: Misemono records, Edo period
Innu oral mythology accounts via First Nations Canada archives
