Louisiana State Bank Building

Louisiana State Bank Building is a building in New Orleans, Louisiana. It has also been known as the Manheim Galleries building, from a longtime tenant. It is located in the French Quarter at the downtown lake corner of Royal Street and Conti.

It was the last structure designed by nationally prominent architect Benjamin H. Latrobe, who died from yellow fever in New Orleans.

It was declared a National Historic Landmark in 1983.

Immediately, adjoining the old Louisiana State Bank Building, 409 Royal Street, is a much older structure, that for eight (8) years was the town house of Jean Blanque, once a well-known figure in old New Orleans. Merchant, lawyer, banker, and legislator.

Famous quotes containing the words louisiana state, louisiana, state, bank and/or building:

    The recent attempt to secure a charter from the State of North Dakota for a lottery company, the pending effort to obtain from the State of Louisiana a renewal of the charter of the Louisiana State Lottery, and the establishment of one or more lottery companies at Mexican towns near our border, have served the good purpose of calling public attention to an evil of vast proportions.
    Benjamin Harrison (1833–1901)

    I saw in Louisiana a live-oak growing,
    All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches,
    Without any companion it grew there uttering joyous leaves of dark
    green,
    And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself,
    But I wonder’d how it could utter joyous leaves standing alone
    there without its friend near, for I knew I could not,
    Walt Whitman (1819–1892)

    The United States is a republic, and a republic is a state in which the people are the boss. That means us. And if the big shots in Washington don’t do like we vote, we don’t vote for them, by golly, no more.
    Willis Goldbeck (1900–1979)

    I have passed down the river before sunrise on a summer morning, between fields of lilies still shut in sleep; and when, at length, the flakes of sunlight from over the bank fell on the surface of the water, whole fields of white blossoms seemed to flash open before me, as I floated along, like the unfolding of a banner, so sensible is this flower to the influence of the sun’s rays.
    Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)

    Culture is a sham if it is only a sort of Gothic front put on an iron building—like Tower Bridge—or a classical front put on a steel frame—like the Daily Telegraph building in Fleet Street. Culture, if it is to be a real thing and a holy thing, must be the product of what we actually do for a living—not something added, like sugar on a pill.
    Eric Gill (1882–1940)