History of the Negro Race in America from 1619 to 1880. Vol. 2 / Negroes as Slaves, as Soldiers, and as Citizens

by George Washington Williams

At the commencement of the Rebellion the church numbered about 246; and at the close of the Rebellion it numbered about 300, notwithstanding the discouraging circumstances under which she labored. The revivals that followed brought many into the church, and the heart of the pastor was greatly encouraged.

At first it was thought that the entire cost of the land and building would not exceed $10,000; but the whole cost, from the time they began to build until the close of the war, was $14,044.09. In 1861 the indebtedness of the church was $2,967.62; at the close of the war it was about $2,000.

During all these years of financial struggle the church had ever paid her notes with promptness and without difficulty. And now that the war was over, freedom granted to the enslaved, and the public again breathing easy, the little church, not weary of well-doing, again began the work of removing the remaining debt. The public was sought only in the most extreme necessity. The ladies held sewing circles, and made with the needle fancy articles to be sold in a festival, while the members of the church were contributing articles of wearing apparel, or offering their services at the sale tables. The proceeds were given to the society to pay its debts; and it was no mean gift.

From 1865 to 1871 the church grew rapidly. Revivals were of frequent occurrence; and many from the South, learning of the good name of Rev. Mr. Grimes, sought his church when coming to Boston. But it was apparent that their once commodious home was now too small. The pastor saw this need, and began to take the proper steps to meet it. It was at length decided that the church should undergo repairs; and the pastor was armed with the proper papers to carry forward this work. The gallery that was situated in the east end of the church was used chiefly by the choir and an instrument. In making repairs it was thought wise to remove the organ from the gallery, and put in seats, and thereby accommodate a larger number of people. Then, the old pulpit took up a great deal of room, and by putting in a new pulpit of less dimensions, more room could be secured for pews. This was done, with the addition of a baptistry, the lack of which for nearly twenty-five years had driven them, in all kinds of weather, to Charles River. Every thing, from the basement up, underwent repairs. The pews were painted and furnished with book-racks. The floors were repaired, and covered with beautiful carpet; while the walls and ceilings were richly clothed with fresco, by the hands of skilful workmen. In the centre of the ceiling was an excellent ventilator, from which was suspended a very unique chandelier, with twelve beautiful globes, that were calculated to dispense their mellow light upon the worshippers below. But to crown all this expensive work and exceeding beauty thus bestowed upon the house, was the beautiful organ that adorned the southwest corner of the church, just to the pastor's right when in the pulpit. It was secured for the sum of two thousand five hundred dollars. All was accomplished. The old house of worship was now entirely refitted. No heart was happier than the pastor's the day the church was reopened.[132] The new and elegant organ sent forth its loud peals of music in obedience to the masterly touch of the "faithful one," who for more than twelve years was never absent from her post of duty, and whom none knew but to love and honor.

What supreme satisfaction there is in the accomplishment of a work that comprehends, not the interests of an individual, but the interests of the greatest number of human beings! The labors of Rev. Mr. Grimes were bestowed upon those whom he loved. He had toiled for his church as a father does to support his family. And no pastor, perhaps, was ever more paternal to his flock than Leonard A. Grimes. He was a man wondrously full of loving-kindness,—a lover of mankind.

It has been the rule rather than the exception, for a long time, for churches to carry heavy debts; and when a church is free from debt, it certainly furnishes a cause for great rejoicing. It was so with the Twelfth Baptist Church. For a long time—more than twenty years—the church had been before the public as an object of charity. For more than twenty years the people had struggled heroically amid all of the storms that gathered around them. Sometimes they expected to see "the red flag" upon their house of worship, but the flag Was never raised.

The debts of the church had all been removed. The house was absolutely free from every encumbrance; the people owned their church.

But the little church of twenty-three had become the large church of six hundred. The once commodious house was now too small for the communicants of the church. The pastor began to look around for a place to build, and considered the matter of enlarging the present house of worship. He had expended the strength of his manhood in the service of his church; he had built one house, and had never denied the public his service. It would seem natural that a man whose life had been so stormy, yea, so full of toil and care, would seek in advanced age the rest and quiet so much desired at that stage of life. But it was not so with Brother Grimes. He was willing to begin another lifetime work, and with all the freshness of desire and energy of young manhood.

It was now the latter part of the winter of 1873. A revival had been for a long time, and was still, in progress. Converts were coming into the church rapidly. The heart of the pastor was never fuller of love than during the revival. He seemed to be in agony for sinners to be saved. He impatiently paced the aisles, and held private and personal interviews with the impenitent. He disliked to leave the church at the close of the services. He remained often in the vestibule, watching for an opportunity to say a word for the Saviour. Brother C. G. Swan, who preached for him once, said: "I never beheld a more heavenly face; it seemed as if his soul were ripe for heaven."

Those who saw him in the pulpit the last Sabbath he spent on earth—March 9, 1874—will not soon forget the earnestness and impressiveness of his manner. On Wednesday, March 12th, he left the scene of his labors to discharge a duty nearest to his heart. He took $100 from his poor church, as a gift to the Home Mission Society, that was to be used in the Freedman's Fund.