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Note: 1. Hannah Smith, age 68 living with daughter and son-in-law, John and and Eleanor Buswell on 1850 census, Hallowell, Kennebec Co, Maine, Maine State Archives microfilm roll #256
2. Granddaughter, Hannah Sleeper (Smith) Webster wrote the following in 1929:
"Something I remember of ancestry and our family, on my father's side, his mother was Hannah Sleeper. She was related to Jacob Sleeper, one of the founders or promoters of Boston, Mass. in its early history- a wealthy man. Since coming to California, I ran across a book written by a Methodist Bishop, a missionary. It was dedicated to Jacob Sleeper of Boston. He was of the aristocracy or blue blood. My uncle Ezra Sleeper Smith went to see his relatives and received a cold reception."
"My grandmother had a brother, Uncle Sleeper, who lived at Loudon Ridge, I remember well he used to come to our house often when we were small and bring some nuts or raisins and tell us to look up the chimney and then he would throw it up in the air and we would scramble around the room to pick it up. He was a lawyer and by marriage his daughers were double cousins to our family."
"My Grandmother's memory is very sacred and we should cherish her legacy left us of good deeds. My grandmother for whom I was named after, Hannah Sleeper Smith, was a remarkable woman. They said used to weave cloth with her hymn book on her loom to learn the hymns, as she was quite a singer and worked late at night that she might visit some conference or meeting. Once she sang to a gathering of ministers."
Poem on Hannah Sleeper Smith's grave stone:
Gravestone of Hannah (Sleeper) Smith:
The autumn comes and crowns the closing year
with ripened fruits and field of waving grain
The reapers all proclaim the harvast near
And to the fields they soon repair again.
Thy autumn Mother crowning many a year
of Christian warfare in this vale of woe
Hath gently passed and to a happier sphere
To fields on high thy Savior bade thee go.
Thus in thy death dear Mother we can see
The germ well fastened in they youthful years
Has grown in beauty to a fruitful tree
That blooms in heaven remote from sighs and tears
Peter Smith, (psmi2002@@aol.com)
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