A MILLIONAIRE MUSICIAN.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LI, Issue 293, 5 December 1908, Page 4

A MILLIONAIRE MUSICIAN.

(T. 1\ O'Connor in M.A.1 1 .) 1 had a singular c-xperieuco when J Was stopping at Lugano the other day. Imagine a tiny little man with a faefi that seems all |>oiiits—pointed nose, pointed thin, pointed beard, eyes that looked like points of brilliant steel, and a body, tiny, perfeelly modelled, and so eloquent of restless energy as to appear rather like an electric dynamo than a being of llosh and Wood; ami you have some idea of what Louis Lombard is like. If there weren't so much intelligence in the lace, you would call him Ariel; if there weren't so much good nature you might think of l'uck. Von would be almost puzzled to place him as to nationality. The quick speech, the love of figurative phrases, the subtle humour, above all the restless energy and constant movement, as well as the slightly nasal accent, would mark him "in as an American if you met him at the -North d'ole. And yet you detect here and there some note which seems French, and, indeed, is French. For this unmistakable characteristic American man is French by birth. This is his history.

MUSICIAN. At fourteen, lie was left a penniless orphan in the city of Lyons. His whole means of making a living was his violin, and at fourteen and with his violin, lie started for America. He looks a bov

.1) i', you can fancy what he looked like iiien. but in a lew years, this tiny emigrant, with his violin, was a leader of an orchestra, manager and financier of travelling companies, then a popular and highly-pniil teacher, and then the head of a great Musical Conservatory, formed on the model of that in the capital of the country from, which he came. You can imagine, when you see him, what he must have been as a chef d'orehestre, and as manager, a whirlwind of energy, dominating with his little finger and bis inspired tiny face a whole army of big men and unmanageable women, the smallest of them all, and yet the inspiration, the guide, and the master of them all.

FLVAXCIKH. Ami ;ill the while he was still little more than a boy. And thoucame imolhcr and a more extraordinary development. This born artist, possessed, one might think, from a superficial look at him, by all the uncalculating and ideal noiiehalanec of the born artist, took it into his head to go into Wall Street. You have never seen Wall Street Ms 1 have done, and, therefore, you can't grasp all the sinister meaning the words convey to all those who, without previous financial experience, have gone into it. If ever there was a spot in all the world which gave the outsider the idea of a perfect Inferno, where men rage and claw and kill, with all the ferocity of tigers in a pit, it is Wall Street. And just fancy, then, what a curious figure this man must have been to have wandered into Wall Street from the world of melodious sound and far-oil' dreams which is called Music, with his tray body, his tiny boyish face, his love of art radiating from every single hair on his long-haired head. There never seemed a more eminently predestined .sheep to be shorn and devoured by the wolves. But the miracle' happened. Lombard entered the tiger pit, and same out, not merely alive, but wealthy, wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice. He married about tne same time a woman who is the most beautifully feminine and womanly creature I have met for years. She came of a powerful financial stock, was the daughter of a man who owned railway*, hotels, and a hundred and one things, and got from, .lay Could, when he sold out. the biggest cheque that hii 1 in that e]Kich of the world's history been ever drawn. And thus two vast fortunes were joined together and a millionaire husband was married to a millionaire wife. TIRED OF MOXEY-MAKIXfi.

Louis Lombard was at that moment thirty-six years of age. Xow what do you think he did? If his history .had stopped at this point or if it had gone -on just the same, then it would .not have interested me beyond the remarkable fact or a penniless violinist becoming a Wall Street magnate being a curious chapter in human and financial history. But so many people make fortunes in America that one millionaire the more is not in itself a very remarkable or exciting thing. The subsequent history, of this multi-millionaire of thirty-six is what distinguishes him from any man. American or otherwise. I have ever met. lie made up his mind that he had all the money he wanted, a resolution which in itself marks him out from most searchers after wealth i:i America, who go on till they drop, piling millions on millions, however much they have. And, to use the Americanism. Lombard at thirty-six "quil." and Wall street knew him'no more. A WOXDEBFI'I, CII.ATEAI". He came to Europe, and resolved that the rest of his days should be given to the pursuit and joy of his vouth: lie has, from that hour, devoted himself lo music. And then, as adventures come to the. adventurous, and romance to the romantic, so there came a singular and romantic adventure to this strange man. An Italian from the Swiss-Italian town of Lugano called on him in Paris, and asked him if he would buy the Chateau de Trevano at Lugano. The Chateau de. Trevano at Lugano.—he had never heard of it before, and as to Lugano, he knew so little of it that lie thought it was in Italy and not in Switzerland. Never heard of the Chateau de Trevano in Lugano! that i>oor Italian could scarcely believe his ears. It was as if some benighted foreigner asked an Englishman, who mentioned Windsor Castle, what is Windsor Castle? For to Lugano the Chateau de Trevano is what Windsor Castle is to lis. But the Italian went on to give such glowing accounts of the famous chateau—all Italians are eloquent, and anybody could be eloquent about the Chateau de Trevano, .and in the end Lombard was impressed, and gave an encouraging answer to the would-be vendor. Whereupon our Italian went off to the telegraph olliee, wrote doubtless a flamboyant telegram to his brother, who, with him, was now the owner of the Chateau de Trevano—so .flamboyant, in fact, so full of the incredible and impossible news that after .years of waiting, of hope deferred, of black debt and lilacker despair, rescue anil a saviour were coming at last—so full of this, or some such wonderful news, that the brother fell dead after he had read the telegram. The relief was too great. He died of an excess of joy. La joie fait peur, as the French sav.

FAIRYLAND. . For (his was the history of the Chateau de Trevano. A certain adventurous (lei-man baron, say half a century ago, went to Russia, lie was handsome, lie was enterprising, he was daring, and, after many adventures, he .succeeded in getting the concession to build a number of the railways in liussia. Anil ; when the railways were completed he was a multi-millionaire. Then lie thought lie would enjoy himself, lie searched all over Europe for some spot wherein to build himself a lordly pleasure house. He chose Lugano, and here lie set about creating the wondrous Chateau de Trevano. As to the situation, I need say little. It is siitlicienr for my readers'to know that it looks out. on the lake of Lugano awl on that cmninglfd scene .scene'of lofty, rugged, and gloomy .mountain and soft, sunsteeped water which make up Lugano. In this respect the Chateau de Trevano is not different from, many other villas on. the same lake. It is tile chateau itsell which is the marvel and, almost, the miracle of beauty. Imagine such a house, as would be made up of I he most beautiful Roman interiors which (he genius of Alma Tadeiua has created, and then yon have some conception of what this lovely, .house is like. When you enter the great door you tiiml yourself in a marble, hall with marble floor, with great marble pillars. It is open at the top. and you see that the second floor is also a great marble structure, that it also has marble pillars, mill that that (he two atriums. !ls i|„. li„ lni ,ns. I believe, call such things, .„•,. connected by a great marble staircase. 1 need ■not go into further details as to the beauty of the .house. It is „1| „„ (he same scale of dazzling -ph mlo M r ami classic beauty. It is >,. beautiful (hat r doubt if a modest man like invself could live in it. I pass on In sonic if the rooms. Here is n great hull with it big organ. That's our music-room, says Lombard to me. But where is the ■theatre. I ask, for 1 had heard thai .there was a theatre in the buildiii". "Oh, that's just over there." 1 had taken this lniisic-rooni for the theatre, and as it eonhl seat a hundred people comfortably 1 was justified in the mistake. '

A RKAUSKI) DIIKAM. This was how (he flcrniaiio-liussian millionaire had realised his artistic vision, spending half a million sterling in doing so. Ami then came tragic grief in the death of his only daughter and son; after, came his own tragic death, whether through grief or self-inflicted 1 kliow not. And tout was the end of

his dream. The heritage was almost as' fatal. Another artistic soul—also German—resolved to buy the chateau; put 'down £4o,lloo—all the ready money ke had of his own; raised the balance ol the money—it amounted to £400,000 and then, lindiug that the heirs had, as he thought, not kept their contract, enItered into litigation. And the litigaa■tiou was still going on when he died. Then his heirs refused to have anything -to do with the property, and it fells into the hands of the Canton. But the shrewd and prudent Swiss authorities didn't want it either, and they readily sold it to a syndicate, who thought it a good speculation. But it wasn't a good speculation. The size and beauty .of the place, the big price to buy it, the bigger sum that would be required to] keep it uj). affrighted people; and it lay: there, a fearful white elephant, eating money every year in taxes and costs, ',sinking into a hopeless ruin. And at •last there were these two Swiss-Italians, who were the owners of the awful and fatal house, and they were searching all over the world for that Aladdin's lamp which woiildd turn this terrible burden into gold. And just as they were on the brink of final and absolute ruin, one of them meets Lombard in I'aris, sends that exuberant telegram of which I have spoken, kills his brother with the good news, and in a few days' time — for Lombard decides the biggest things with American decision and pruiupUtudi —behold the Chateau de Trevano has the spell lifted which had hung over it for twenty years—for twenty long years if had remained unoccupied—ami the Franco-American millionaire dwells in the marble halls still haunted by the uneasy ghost of the (lerniano-Kiissiaii millionaire who found it not the realisation of all his wondrous dream, but the death of all his hopes. FOI.aZZAKKO.

liut, again I snv, if Lombard had simply been a millionaire with a bigauu even with the most beautiful of houses, he would not he particularly interesting. I have known plenty of sordid and ugly souls in big and beautiful houses. Lombard is unique in keeping open house for every man and woman of interest on Hie Continent and especially for every man and woman of artistic gifts. It almost makes you dizzy to hear him mention the guests he has • entertained there. lie casually mentioned to me that on the. day following; my lirst visit to the chateau, he was going to have Fogazzarro to lunch. Foggazarro to lunch! I could! scarcely believe my ears. 1 learned afterwards that there was no reason why I should have been surprised, for Foguzzaro has u villa, of his own on the Lake of Lugano where, every summer he and his family* take their villegiatura. Would I eome to meet .Fogazzaro? I almost laughed at the (juustion—as if I wouldn't have travelled all the way from London to Lugano to have an opoprtuiiity of meeting the wonderful man who stands at the head of the literature of modem Italy, and whose last book, "The Saint," lias' created more stir in religious circles than any published for hall a century. 1 l met Fogazzarro, then, at one of Lombard's small lunch parties—l call it small, for there are only twenty-live people around the great table. And in the magnificent spaciousness of the Chateau de Trevano and of Mr. and Mrs. Lombard's warm hearts, a lunch party of oven twenty-five seems small. A MILLIONAIRE'S HOBBY.

And, then, after lunch, we saw Lombard at the hobby which is his passion, his occupation, his realised dream. We walked into the music room, which I have already mentioned. And there, before us, was it complete orchestra. This wizard of i\ man keeps his own. big orchestra, ami for two hours we listened to one of the most beautiful concerts I have heard for u long time; and the conductor was Lombard himself. This man who started with bis fiddle as hi* fortune, who spent years "on the road," travelling those gigantic and terrible distances of America, who must have had his hours of despair and humiliation—this man devotes his leisure and bis wealth with the art with which lie started life, retaining lor it the unconquerable love which not time, nor fatigues, norulisillusions could touch. This is where Lombard is remarkable. This is the use of his wealth which marks him out from all the hordes of millionaires, many of whom sadden the world by their iuv;i sad emptiness or disgust it by their lavish, vulgar and inaaue display. And what I saw was not an exceptional day. Every evening for five months he spends in' the Chateau de Trevano. Lombard mounts his rostrum, conducts his baud, gives his conceit. He does so when the house is full, he do"s so when he has 710 bearers but his own family and a few inUmatFs. Hut lie is not often alone. I'tife.as I have said, open to everybody who has anything in the shape of intelligence or kindness to give. Friends make vi.,its of weeks.

lilC MUKMKS AM) A KIM) 11KAUT. This is Lombard's life for live muiitlis every year. The rest 01 thi- lime InHashes liuti-oi-like iu a big motor car through even- country iif Kiir«ij, t .. Xoila.v lie is in lyindon. a few days after in Koine, always 1»J with some great musical scheme. For the moment it is to syndicate the opera house of Jtaly and bring out a bigger, a better, a greater, more perfect operatic troupe and operatic performance than ever Italy has ever hail. And, finally, this touch, lo show that this wonderful, dominating, masterful, successful little man is bigger in heart even than in achievement or m any other ijiiality. There were eight charming children in the house. My wjfe and I, says Jxnubard, with a twinkle in those brilliant piercing eyes, wish there were sixteen. ,Such is the Chateau do Trevano which you will find mentioned in all the guide books, and such is its present strafe and wonderful tenant. It was worth going to Lugano to know 'hini and it.