Major Van Buren was a big hit with the residents of London Terrace, a set of 36 grand brownstone row houses on West 23rd Street between 9th and 10th Avenue, where Myra and John Stephens made their home.

The childless couple doted on Major, teaching him over 50 tricks (according to Myra he could “talk in a way” and sing in three languages) and letting him dine with them at the table. Major was especially fond of coffee — every morning a servant brought him coffee in his bedroom, but he would not drink it until a napkin was tied under his chin. After he finished, he’d hold up his mouth for someone to wipe it.

During their early married years, the Stephens traveled extensively throughout Europe, the United States, and Mexico. On every trip, Major was at their side (I don’t know if his brother also traveled with them). Sometime around 1895, Myra gave birth to a baby boy. Major instantly bonded with the child, and they became best friends. According to Myra, in 1897 Major saved a young boy from drowning in Atlanta, Georgia. For his heroics, the father of the boy presented the dog with a gold medal. A year later, Major saved two other little boys from drowning at Rockaway Beach in New York. That same year, in 1898, the Stephens lost their young son, leaving a huge void in their lives and in their London Terrace home.

In July 1900, Myra took Major to the New York Veterinary Hospital, located just a few blocks away from London Terrace at 117 West 25th Street. Major was treated by Dr. Edward M. Leavy, who did his very best to treat the collie in his final days. The Stephens chose to bury their cherished dog in a small pet cemetery in Hartsdale, New York. On the day of his funeral, Major was washed, combed, and placed in a satin-lined rosewood casket. The casket featured four silver handles and an oval glass plate at the top for viewing. A gold collar adorned his neck, and flowers covered his body. As the Stephens’ many friends came to call and place more flowers on the casket, Major’s surviving brother collie stood by and howled. Major was taken by an animal ambulance to Grand Central Station, where the casket was placed on a Harlem Line train bound for the Hartsdale Pet Cemetery.

The property surrounding London Terrace has a very interesting history, dating back to the 17th and 18th centuries, when the Chelsea neighborhood was all hilly forest and farmland owned by Jacob and Teunis Somerindyke. This large farm of several hundred acres was bounded by what was then called the North River (Hudson) and 8th Avenue (then called Fitzroy Road) from 14th to 24th Street. The land featured a river that flowed near present-day 10th Avenue and a small creek by the shoreline at 22nd Street. In 1779, Clement Clarke Moore was born in Chelsea House on these lands. Here, in 1822, he first recited the poem he wrote for his two daughters — “A Visit from St. Nicholas” — the classic holiday poem that begins, “T’was the night before Christmas, when all through the house…”

Sometime around the 1830s, Moore began dividing his land into lots and selling them for fine residences. In 1845, working with William Torrey (who leased the land), Moore erected London Terrace and Chelsea Gardens, which encompassed West 23rd and 24th streets between 9th and 10th Avenues.

In 1853, Moore razed Chelsea House (which was across from London Terrace) and sold the land. On that site, elaborate row houses later called Millionaires’ Row were constructed.

In 1907, a financial panic marked the beginning of the downfall for London Terrace. The once pricey one-family homes were subdivided into rooming houses and apartments. Extra floors were added to several of the buildings, and some were converted to institutions (for example, the townhouse where the Stephens once lived was once occupied by the Florence Crittenden Home for Girls; three London Terrace homes near 10th Avenue were combined with three of the Chelsea Cottages to form the School for Social Research campus.)

By 1929, developer Henry Mandel had acquired control of the block — well, all of the buildings except the house at 429 West 23rd Street. As Mandel began demolishing all of the buildings, Tillie Hart, once the next-door neighbor of the John and Myra Stephens, held her ground, barricading herself in and refusing to leave until the sheriffs forced her out in October of that year. Mandel replaced the old townhouses with ten apartment buildings and four taller tower-like structures at each corner. The buildings contained 1,665 apartments, plus an abundance of amenities such as an indoor swimming pool, supervised rooftop play area, gymnasium, penthouse recreational club, sun deck for infants, courtyard garden, and a rooftop marine deck furnished to look like an ocean liner. I bet Major Van Buren and his brother collie would have loved the rooftop play area!