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Updated: June 11, 2025
Burrell says it was his mother's engagement ring; but, then, gems are all second-hand a hundred-hand a thousand-hand for that." "Burrell! You take my breath away! Burrell! The man who has a bank in Threadneedle Street?" "The same." "Good gracious, Elizabeth! You have made all our fortunes! You noble girl! I did not know he was thinking of you." "He was waiting for me. Destiny, Roland.
The length of the building on the outside is two hundred and three feet, the breadth a hundred and seventy-one, and the height fifty- six. On the front towards Cornhill also is a noble piazza, consisting of ten pillars; and another on the opposite side next Threadneedle Street, of as many; and in the middle of each a magnificent gate.
As a commission for securing the London loan, the State of Maryland gave Peabody a check for sixty thousand dollars. He endorsed the check, "Presented to the State of Maryland with the best wishes of G. Peabody," and gave it back. Peabody's success with Threadneedle Street tapped for him a reservoir of power.
The value of money in Threadneedle Street affects the farmer in an obscure hamlet a hundred miles away, whose fathers knew nothing of money except as a coin, a token of value, and understood nothing of the export or import of gold. The farmer's business is conducted through the bank, but, on the other hand, the bank cannot restrict its operations to the mere countryside.
There is a story of a demented London stockbroker running out into Threadneedle Street and tearing off his clothes as he ran. 'The Steel Trust is scrapping the whole of its plant, he shouted. 'The State Railways are going to scrap all their engines. Everything's going to be scrapped everything. Come and scrap the mint, you fellows, come and scrap the mint!
"And what might his references be, now?" "To his bankers, the London and Orient, in Threadneedle Street," answered Mrs. Killenhall promptly. "And to his solicitors, Crawle, Pawle and Rattenbury, of Bedford Bow." "Very satisfactory they were, no doubt, ma'am?" suggested Drillford. Mrs. Killenhall let her eye run round the appointments of the room. "Eminently so," she said dryly. "Mr.
Even the Bank of Bombay, believed to be as solid as the 'Old Lady' of Threadneedle Street, had to suspend, and the commercial distress was frightful. "But it left its lesson behind it; and since that time Bombay has patiently and painfully regained its former solid prosperity. It has recovered what it lost, and is now steadily increasing in population and wealth."
At one of the sittings of the Threadneedle Street Huguenot Church in London, held in May, 1687 two years after the Revocation not fewer than 497 members were again received into the Church which, by force, they had pretended to abandon. Not many pastors abjured. A few who yielded in the first instance through terror and stupor, almost invariably returned to their ancient faith.
This is William Cobbett's Old Lady of Threadneedle Street, whose rickety constitution and failing powers according to that bold and blundering financier betokened almost immediate dissolution more than a quarter of a century ago.
The City is no longer regarded by the wealthiest traders with that attachment which every man naturally feels for his home. It is no longer associated in their minds with domestic affections and endearments. The fireside, the nursery, the social table, the quiet bed are not there. Lombard Street and Threadneedle Street are merely places where men toil and accumulate.
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