The Grange advance., 1874-10-14

Rather than Pay HfS TaXes..The
Home Of the 1aiser-.lGis History.
A Scene at the Auction Exchange.
New Orleans (Sept 3O correspondence of
N. Y. Tritune.)
Outside of politics the sensation of
New Orleans just now is the case of the
old octoroon Francois Lacroix, last
week millionaire, to-day a friendless
beggar, sold out for taxes which he
could b 1t would not pay. He was the
owner of properties in the city and ad-
joining parishes, stores, dwellings, and
plantations, paying two months ago an
aggregate monthly rental Of more than
$4,000. Yesterday I saw him sitting
in the steps of the auctioneer's restrum,
smoking vile cigar and wagging his
vacant old head while the last remains
Of his fortune was being waited away
on the echo Of the crier's voice.
Lacroix's history is singularly inter-
esting. A quarter of a century ago he
was the fashionable tailor of New Or
leans. The popular shop "Cordieville
& Lacroix" was on St. Charles street,
one or two doors below the present site
Of the St. Charles Hotel. Both were
colored men. Cordieville was fashy,
snowy fellow, quite an exquisite,
prone to brawls and duels, but a pol
ished artist in his line, He affected
France very greatly; had a chateau
near Paris, where, during the greater
part of the year, he used to maintain
an establishment of great luxury and
splendor. Finally he withdrew from
New Orleans to spend the remainder of
his life in his favorite country. Lacroix
was a man Of different tastes and
habits. An octoroon like Cordieville,
he was, unlike him, penurious, frugal,
plodding. Once a year he went to la
belle France for five or six weeks, and
wild stories are told Of his extravaganza
and debauchery on those occasions !;
but here at home he lived in positive
meanncss. His house on Dumaine
street, in the French quarter, where,
by the way, he still lives, is an old COL
onial structure, built of wood, with
high roof and long dormer windows,
rickety, intirm and uninviting. 1t is
scarcely better than the average plan.
tation cabin, certainly not half so cheer
full and attractive. l went down and
took look at it the other day, though
the survey was attended with difficult
ties. The interior is picture of dis
order and discomfort, with four rooms
in the main building, divided off by
partitions Of what seemed pasteboard-
one great room. so far as sound or
smell might be concerned. The
o1ter apartment, the only
one I gained access to,
was crowded with preposterous old
furniture, mangy-looking bundles, box
es, odds and edds, the whole forming a
collection which the negroes call "plun-
der. Enthroned in the midst Of all
this confusion, propPed in a huge and
intirm rocking chair, was an appalling
old woman-Lacrcix's mother. I had
not expected this. Lacroix is a trifle
over 70 himself, and never anticipated
being called on to confront his mother.
Much to my surprise she spoke a little
broken English; much to my disap.
pointment she informed me that her
boy was sick and invisible. I glanced
around the room-a perfect chaos of
curiosities, useless but ancient. What
anybody wanted with such lot of ab-
surd old traps I cannot imagine. In
only one instance did see an article
that pertained to civilization or the
nineteenth century. That article was
q safe-an iron safe Of ancient pattern.
1t looked as though it might have been
purchased when Lacroix was a Growing
infant. bought in some extravagant out
burst by his father. I suppose it con-
tanned the titlc-deeds and so on. As
bowed myself ont observed lima
layan head-dress Of yellow and red
cotton surmounting Lacroix mere.
Here the miser lives and has lived
since the time when the now fashiona-
bic district of New Orleans was a snipe
ground. I suppose the annual expenses
ct that establishment must figure up as
high as $400. This, with whatever he
spent in those Partisan revclries, made
up the total Of his expenditures; and
all the rest, for nearly half century,
has been going into new lands, more lots
and additional houses. He made money
at a tremendous rate 30 years. His
shop was the center of fashion. His
coats were the sine qesa non of society.
No dandy of that day could hope to
shine in the foyer of the Orleans Opera
until Lacroix's touch prepared him for
the effort. The bloods of Daunhine
and Royal streets never dreamed of
strutting near the shadow of Cabildo or
the Pontalba palace until Lacroix had
dressed his legs. Money was no object
then. 1t came easily to these young
roysterers, and Lacroix had no great
modesty>as as to his charges. Making
immense Spps and spending nothing,