Lunenburg County VA - Interview with Ex-Slave, Mr. Charley Crawley Submitted for use in the USGenWeb Archives. The Virginia Writers' Project (VWP) was the state-sponsored segment of the Federal Writers' Project, which in turn was an agency of the Work Projects Administration (WPA), known as the Works Progress Administration until 1 July, 1939. During the Great Depression of the 1930s, the federal government, through the WPA, provided jobs to 8,500,000 unemployed workers. These jobs were primarily construction work, repair work, and other types of employment requiring manual labor. The WPA also established federal art, music, theater and writers' projects to provide relief jobs for artists, musicians, actors, and white-collar and professional workers. The mission of the Federal Writers' Project, in addition to providing security wages for unemployed clerks, writers, editors, lawyers, teachers, librarians, and similar workers, was the compilation of anthologies of oral history (life histories), folklore, and music, as well as state, local and specialized guidebooks. Interview of Mr. Charley Crawley, Ex-slave from Lunenburg County VA Petersburg, Virginia. By — Susie Byrd February 20, 1937 God know, how ole I am, all I know is, I was born 'fo' de war. Yes, I was & slave an' belonged to & family of Allen's in Lunenburg County; came here to dis Petersburg de second week after Lee'8 Surrender. My Marster an' Mistess was good to me as well as to de other slaves. Dey owned bout fifty head of Colored People. All de work I did was to play an' drive cows bein' jes' a boy worked around as chillun; doin' dis, an' dat, little things de white folks would call me to do. Marster Mien, owned my mother, an' sister too, we come to dis town o' Petersburg after Lee's Surrender, I mean de endin' o' de Civil War. My mother, sister, an' I came on down de road in a box car, which stopped outside de outskirts; hit didn't go through de city. Yes, I know when de fus railroad was built. De Norfolk an' Western an' de Atlantic Coast Line dey was run thew Petersburg. In dem days it was call de Southern. Mistess and Marster Allen didn' want us to leave dat part o' de country to come to dis here place down de road, but we comed ourselves to make a home for ourselves. Well now, we worked here an' we bought usselves a home an' paid for it. Mother died right here in dis here house; twelve years ago, dis comin' March 'leventh. Ise am yet livin' in dis same house, dat she an' us all labored an' worked for by de sweat o' our brow, an' wid dese hands. Lord! Lord! Chile, dem days was some days. Lemme finish baby tellin' you 'bout dis house. De groun' was bought from a collud lady name Sis Jackey, an' she was sometime called in dem days de Mother of Harrison Street Baptis' Church. I reckon dis church is de oldest one in Petersburg. Oh, yes, honey, I can 'member when de Yankees came into dis town. Dey broke in stores an' tol' all de niggers to go in an' git anything dey wanted. When slaves ran away dey was brought back to dey master and mistess, When dey couldn' ketch 'em dey didn' bother, yes let 'em go. Sometimes de slaves would go an' take up an*'live at tother places;some of dem lived in de woods off of takin'things, sech as hogs, corn an vegetables from other folks farm. Well if dese slaves was caught dey was sol' by dey new marsters to go down Souf. Dey tell me dem marsters down Souf, was so mean to slaves dey would let 'em work dem cotton fields tel dey fall daid, wid hoes in dey han's. Ise glad to say we had good owners. Dare was a auction block dat I saw right here in Petersburg on die corner of Sycamore Street an' Bank Street. Slaves was auctioned off to de highest bidder. Some 'fused to be sol' lak dat, I mean dey cried. Lord! Lord! I done seen dem young'uns fout an' kick lak crazy folks; chile it was pitiful to see 'em. Den dey'd handcuff 'em an' beat 'em unmerciful. I don' like to talk 'bout back dar. It brung a sad feelin' up in me. If slaves 'belled, I done seed dem whip 'em wid a strop call "cat nine tails." Honey, dis strop was 'bout broad as yo' han from thum' to lil finger, an' 'twas cut in strips. You done seen dese whips dat dey whip horses wid? Well dey was used too. You said something 'bout how we served God. Um, um, chile, I tell you jes' how we useto do. We useto worship at different houses. You see you would git a "remit" to go to dese places. You would have to show your "remit". If de Pattyrollers caught you dey'd whip you sho. Pattyrollers is a gang o' white men gittin' together goin' thew de country catchin' slaves, an' whippin' an' beatin' 'em up if dey had no "remit" Marster Allen wouldn' 'low no one to whip an' beat his slaves, an' he'd handle anybody ef dey did. So marster's slaves met an' worshipped from house to house, an' honey, we talked to My God all us wanted. You know we useto call Marster Allen, Colonel Allen. His name was Robert. He was a home general an' a lawyer too. When he went to court any slave he said to free, was set free an' turn aloose. De white folks as well as slaves 'beyed Marster Allen. Did you know po' whites lak slaves had to git a pass? I mean "remit" lak we slaves, to sell anything an' to go places, or do anythin'! Jes' as we collud folks. Dey had to go to some big white man lak Colonel Allen, dey did. If Marster want to, he would give dem a "remit" or pass an' ef he didn' feel lak it, he wouldn' do it. It was jes' as he felt 'bout hit. Dat's what made all feared him. Ole Marster was mo' hard on dem poor white folks den he was on us niggers. I don' know but two sets o' white folks slaves up my way; one was name Chatman, an' de tother one Nelloviee. Dese two families wuked on Allen's farm as we did. Off from us on a plot call Morgan's lot, dey live as slaves jes' lak us cullud folks. Yes de po' white man had some dark and tough days lak us po' niggers; I mean was lashed an' treated, same as we. Lord! Lord! baby; I hope you young folks will never know what slavery is, an' will never suffer as yo' foreparents. Oh God! God! I'm livin' to tell de tell to you, yes, Jesus he's spared me. We was 'lowed two suits a year — one for spring one for winter, was all you had. De underclothes was made at home. You also got two pairs of shoes an' home made hats an' caps. White folks or de slave owners would teach dem slaves who could catch on easy an' dey would teach de other slaves, an' dat's how dey kep' all slaves clothes. Our summer hats was made out of plaited straw. Underclothes made out of sacks an' bags. We had plenty of food sech as 'twas; corn brad, butter milk, sweet potatoes in week days. Ha! Ha! Ha! Honey, guess dat's why niggers don' lak cornbrad. On Sunday we had biscuits, and sometimes a little extra food, which ole Mistees would send out to Mother for us. Fer as I think, if slavery had lasted, it would have been pretty tough. As it was some fared good, while others fared common. You know, slaves who was beat an' treated bad; some of dem had started gittin' together an' killin' de white folks when dey carried dem out to de field to work. God is punishin' sone of dem ole suckers an' dey chillun right now for de way dey useto treat us po' cullud folks. I think de niggers gittin' educated he has profit an' dis here young giniration is gwine take nothin' off dese here po' white folks when dey don' treat dem right cause now dis country is a free country; no slavery now.