The taxman cometh! Head for the woods, bring the livestock!

A regular weekly look back at some offbeat or interesting stories that have appeared in the Citizen over its 175-year history.

There seemed no need 125 years ago to hide your assets from the taxman offshore; sneaking them into the woods out back apparently was good enough.

That, at least, was what many residents around Low, Que., north of Wakefield, did in November 1895, when they learned that provincial authorities were on their way to seize the belongings of residents who were in arrears.

“The report that the constables had been despatched was brought by parties who came up on the evening train from Ottawa,” the Citizen reported. “Such news travel apace, even in these districts, and by ten o'clock in the morning the alarm had gone pretty well around the district.”

The warning was followed by “a bustle of preparation,” particularly in houses closest to the highway, where officials were expected to visit first.

When those officials, or the “posse” as the paper described them, arrived, they discovered houses largely emptied of belongings. “Even the livestock was not to be found; every hoof had been driven off to the bush.

“To have attempted to follow the flocks for the purpose of making seizures,” the Citizen explained, “would have been to invite defeat and cause delay. Many of the paths lead back into the mountains where hiding places abound in spots inaccessible except to those intimately acquainted with the ground.

“No attempt was therefore made to hunt up the moveables of these fugitives.”

Making matters more difficult was the fact that the posse was followed by between 30 and 40 “farmers, men and boys,” none of them helpful in identifying delinquent property owners.

“Finally, the officers reached a farm, south of the Stag creek settlement, which they located as belonging to one Steve Driscoll.

As the constables approached the house the crowd intercepted them at the gate, declaring that the property was not Driscoll's and threatening resistance if an attempt were made to seize.

“Finally, however, the constables ascertained that their man really did not own the premises and withdrew. A good deal of time was spent in trying to locate this party, and the afternoon wore on without much being accomplished. Altogether the day's experience had been a somewhat disheartening one.”

Members of the posse were expected to spend the night at Brooks' Hotel, in Stag Creek, and resume operations in the morning, although, the paper reported, that also seemed doomed to failure as “the neighborhood has been thoroughly aroused and everybody who has reason to suspect a visit from the officers will have his effects moved off to the bush by daylight.”

Perhaps, it was proposed, the constables might have better luck in the nearby Keely settlement, where many residents refrained from paying their taxes simply because of “the hostile sentiment of their neighbors” and were not likely to “make much show of resistance.”

The Citizen noted, too, that the posse had been threatened with attacks, but that “nothing so far has occurred to justify apprehensions of bloodshed.

“Fortunately there is no liquor sold in the neighborhood, nearer than Kazabazua, which removes one serious source of dread.”