Elizabeth Duncan tried to move away from the sleeping man on her right side, but only managed to press her hip tighter against the man on her left. He looked at her and smiled, but didn't try to give her any more room. Neither did the man sitting in the center seat and facing her. It was embarrassing to feel his knee against the inside of her thighs, but the only way nine people could fit into the cramped seats of the stagecoach was by alternating their knees. Thankfully, her left knee was against an older woman's legs, and that wasn't quite as embarrassing.
It had been that way since she boarded the stagecoach in Little Rock, Arkansas. She'd hoped to take another train like she had from St. Louis, Missouri to Little Rock, but that railway was still just a proposal in some railroad company's last board meeting. The Grundy and Randolph stage line was the only way to get from Little Rock to Leland, Texas.
Elizabeth hadn't expected the stagecoach to be as comfortable as a train car. She'd read the accounts of other people who had ridden in stagecoaches, and they related the rough ride over uneven ground, the cramped seating, and the poor food served at the way stations. She'd expected the journey to be one she'd prefer to forget.
She hadn't expected to be seated between a man with a huge belly that seemed to spread out on both sides when he was seated, and a tall man who constantly smoked long, black cigars.
She had secretly named the fat man on her left "Mister Stinklazy " because of how he smelled and how he acted. Giving people secret names was something Elizabeth had done since she could remember. Her secret names were for people she didn't know but was forced to be around for a while. Her names always described the person as she saw them, and such was her name for Mister Stinklazy.
Elizabeth wasn't new to the smell of a man who worked for a living. Her father had worked the docks in St. Louis, and usually smelled of sweat. Mister Stinklazy had an odor that transcended that of any sweaty man she'd ever smelled. It was more like the smell of sweat mixed with the smell of really moldy bread.
She'd added "lazy" to her private name for him because he was indeed lazy. The stagecoach stopped at regular intervals -- the driver said about every ten miles -- to change horses. During the time it took to do that, the passengers could disembark and walk around, use the privy, and get a drink and something to eat at the way station.
Mister Stink-lazy was always the last out of the stagecoach, the last to make his way to the way station, and the last to return to the stagecoach when the driver said he was ready to leave. The other passengers would already be seated when Mister Stinklazy would walk slowly up to the stagecoach, sigh as he raised his foot to the step, and then groan as he heaved his bulk up on the step. The body of the stagecoach would rock violently then, violently enough that the only other woman inside, an older woman Elizabeth secretly named "Frownface" because she didn't seem to show any other expression, that woman would shriek in terror.
In getting his bulk from the step to the floor of the stagecoach, Mister Stinklazy would repeat those actions with the same result and the same groan. Once inside, he'd back up to his place on the seat beside Elizabeth, sigh again, and then lower his bulk down to the seat. Elizabeth would be forced to move as close to the man on her right as possible to avoid being crushed under Mister Stinklazy's fat hips. Once he was seated, his huge belly spread out so much it was touching the top of her thigh.
Mister Stinklazy made no apologies. He just smiled, squirmed in his seat a little and then looked out the window.
The man on her right, the man who was always smoking a cigar, she named "Mister Cigar". Elizabeth couldn't decide if she liked Mister Cigar less than Mister Stinklazy. He was just as obnoxious, but in a different way.
There was a sign inside the stagecoach that asked passengers not to smoke cigars if there were female passengers present, but Mister Cigar seemed to ignore it. Elizabeth thought he could at least have the courtesy to blow the smoke out the window, but instead, he filled the inside of the stagecoach with vile, acrid smoke. The breeze coming in though the open windows helped to clear the smoke, but at the last way station, Elizabeth could still smell it even when she used the privy. It was then she realized both her hair and clothing reeked of cigar smoke.
The man in the seat across from her she named "Mister Knees" because he would nudge her inner thigh with his knee every time the stagecoach rocked more than usual. It was just a touch, but it was enough to make her open her legs a little. The man would apologize, but Elizabeth could plainly see the grin on his face.
The other passengers inside the stagecoach ignored everyone else, so Elizabeth didn't give them each a name.
It had been the same since the stagecoach left Little Rock, hours of being squeezed between Mister Stinklazy and Mister Cigar and feeling Mister Knees trying to push her legs apart. There was no respite, even when darkness fell. The stagecoach kept driving all through the night. Mister Stinklazy would go to sleep and start to snore, but when he relaxed, his belly seemed to spread out even more. Mister Cigar stopped smoking for a few hours then, but Elizabeth often had to push his head off her shoulder. The only thing that really changed was when Mister Knees went to sleep; he didn't push on her thigh anymore. Then there was the constant clinking sound of the trace chains and the clacking of the wheels and the fact that they stopped every four hours. Elizabeth was able to sleep a little, but by that day she was exhausted.
At the last way station, the driver said their next stop would be Leland, Texas and that they'd get there in about three hours. Elizabeth steeled herself for another three hours of being squeezed, having her eyes and throat burn from cigar smoke, and trying to ignore Mister Knees.
Often over the past seven days Elizabeth had questioned whether she'd made a wise decision to leave her home in St. Louis. The offer of a job teaching school in Leland, Texas had seemed to be a way to get her life back on track again. That offer had come a few weeks after she'd responded to an advertisement in the St. Louis newspaper.
The advertisement said the town of Leland, Texas had built a new school building and needed a teacher to teach the fifteen students who lived in and around Leland. The requirements were simple. The teacher had to be female between the ages of twenty and twenty-five and be willing to make the journey to Leland.
Elizabeth had been concerned about the pay she'd receive. She was currently teaching school in St. Louis and was paid five hundred and fifty dollars per year. The job in Leland paid only four hundred and fifty but the offer included room and board at a boarding house. Elizabeth was living in her parent's house in St. Louis so she didn't pay for a room, but she did pay for food. When she did the calculations, it seemed like the pay in Leland would be about equal to what she made in St. Louis.
It was her need to put her situation behind her that finally tipped the scales in favor of moving to Leland. In April of 1861, she'd married Johnathan Duncan, a young man whose father was a reporter for the St. Louis Post Dispatch. Johnathan intended to follow in his father's footsteps, and was at that time proofreading articles at the same newspaper before they were sent to the typesetting department.
On May 10, 1861, a group of Union Army volunteers successfully averted a planned attack on the Federal Arsenal in St. Louis by capturing all those present at Camp Jackson. The Union Troops then marched the captives into St. Louis in order to parole them in front of the public.