Soon after his return he was admitted to the bar and proved his forensic prowess by earning $600 in the first year of his practice, a degree of success which enabled him to unite his destiny with that of the Only Girl, and begin housekeeping in Summerville, a suburban village where living was cheap.  For, though “Love gives itself and is not bought,” there are other essentials of existence which are not so lavish with themselves.

The pen-fever had seized upon Simms with great virulence and he followed his fate.  Soon after his return from Mississippi, General Charles Coates Pinckney died and Simms wrote the memorial poem for him.  When LaFayette visited Charleston the pen of Simms was called upon to do suitable honor to the great occasion.  Such periodical attacks naturally resulted in a chronic condition.  Charleston was the scene of his brief, though not wholly unsuccessful, career as a play-wright.  In Charleston he edited the Daily Gazette in the 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.

In May, 1864, Simms went to Columbia and was there when the town was destroyed by fire, the house in which he was staying being saved by his presence therein.  “You belong to the whole Union,” said an officer, placing a guard around the dwelling to protect the sturdy writer who counted his friends all over the Nation.  He said to friends who sympathized with him over his losses, “Talk not to me about my losses when the State is lost.”