exciting tunes of Nullification, taking with all the strength that was
in him the unpopular side of the burning question. In the doorway of
the Gazette office he stood defiantly as the procession of Nullifiers
came down the street, evidently with hostile intentions toward the
belligerent editor. Seeing his courageous attitude the enthusiasts
became good-natured and contented themselves with marching by, giving
three cheers for their cause.

In that famous bookshop, Russell's, on King Street he was accustomed
to meet in the afternoons with the youthful writers who looked upon
him as their natural born leader. In his "Wigwam," as he called his
Charleston home, he welcomed his followers to evenings of brightness
that were like stars in their memory through many after years of
darkness. When he made his home at Woodlands he often came to the
"Wigwam" to spend a night, calling his young disciples in for an
evening of entertainment. His powerful voice would be heard ringing
out in oratory and declamation so that neighbors blocks away would say
to Hayne or Timrod next morning, "I noticed that you had Simms with
you last night." In 1860 the "Wigwam" was accidentally burned.

At Woodlands, Simms awaited the coming of the war which he had
predicted for a number of years. There he was when the battle of
Fredericksburg filled him with triumphant joy, and he saw in fancy
"Peace with her beautiful rainbow plucked from the bosom of the storm
and spread from east to west, from north to south, over all the sunny
plains and snowy heights." Unfortunately, his radiant fancy wrought in
baseless visions and the fires of the storm had burned away that
brilliant rainbow before Peace came, as a mourning dove with shadowy
wings hovering over a Nation's grave.