Davenport, Iowa, in the early part of the century, was a surprising city. Though situated in a conservative part of the country and reflecting that fact in a stern and unforgiving moralism, it also retained something of the radicalism of its own past. In the words of Floyd Dell, who was raised there and who later became an influential figure in the literary world first of Chicago and then New York, it was ‘largely German and Jewish, with an 1848 European revolutionary foundation, and a liberal and socialist superstructure. There was also some native American mysticism in the picture, a mysticism which blossomed in the 30s and 40s, a curious religious expression of romantic libertarian ideas.’ The town had ‘the bravado of an old Mississippi river-port, and the liberal “cosmopolitan” atmosphere of a place that is in touch with European influences. It had its nose not too closely pressed against the grindstone of “practical” fact. It had an intelligentsia, who knew books and ideas. It even had some live authors.’ A curious mixture of small town prejudice and intellectual sophistication, Davenport proved both liberating and oppressive to those who challenged its conservative mores in terms of its radical tradition. The contradictions went deep, in its rebels no less than in its leading citizens.