The Duke Who Went Underground

The 5th Duke of Portland came from one of the most prominent families in England. His grandfather had been Prime Minister twice. The dukedom came with Welbeck Abbey, a vast Nottinghamshire estate, a seat in the House of Lords, and every expectation of public life.

He chose to dig.

Over nearly two decades, the Duke had workers excavate fifteen miles of tunnels beneath his estate, connecting underground chambers all painted pink. There was a 250-foot library. A billiard room. A riding house lit by four thousand gas jets, with stables for a hundred horses he never rode. The crown jewel was a subterranean ballroom — ten thousand square feet, the largest unobstructed floor in England, with a ceiling painted as a sunset and a hydraulic lift that could lower twenty guests from the surface. He never threw a single party. He used it to roller-skate alone.

Above ground, servants who encountered him were required to face the wall. His bedroom door had a letterbox through which he communicated by note. When he traveled to London, his carriage was loaded, with him inside it, onto a railway wagon so he would not have to be seen at the station.

He died in 1879. The ensuing inheritance scandal — a fraudster claimed the Duke had led a secret double life — made him more famous than he'd ever been alive. Kenneth Grahame read the stories and gave children's literature a gruff, tunnel-dwelling recluse who hated society but had a warm heart underneath.

He called the character Mr. Badger.