IT started life as a 19th century inn, a squalid moorland venue where drinkers would pass the day betting on cockfighting and rat-baiting.
In 1872, it became home to two-dozen orphans, saved from begging and an early death on the streets of London.
In the middle of the last century, it re-opened as a residential school for children with learning difficulties.
Now, the metamorphosis of Crowthorn School at Edgworth is about to be completed.
This village of 19 stone-built properties, for so long synonymous with vocation and charitable endeavour, has yielded to 21st century enterprise and will be transformed largely into 50 luxury homes for well-heeled commuters with up to £600,000 to lay out.
Three years after the school's closure, final planning consent for the new scheme has just been granted.
Crowthorn Village - as Rayson Wilshaw estate agency describes it - is reached via the Broadhead Road from Edgworth, 900 feet above sea level and less than a mile from its junction with Bolton, Bury and Blackburn roads (you know, Holden's ice cream shop?).
Its imposing Victorian buildings, on a tight, left-hand bend, have prompted many a quizzical glance from passing Sunday drivers. What is that place?
For the next 18 months or so, it will probably be a building site as new homeowners order the gutting of the 16 former staff homes and dormitories, mainly along Moorside Road.
Thirteen were sold within days, snapped up by interested parties anxiously awaiting the go-ahead from planning councillors on Blackburn with Darwen Council.
Strict planning conditions mean that the buildings cannot be substantially altered externally while internally, the simplicity of design betrays their functional, institutional legacy and perhaps the frugal nature of their management.
Starting at £250,000, they are "sold as seen". A costly makeover is badly needed.
work on one, formerly Moscrop House, on the corner of Moorside and Broadhead roads, is under way and already shows what can be achieved.
Nearby, others have been cleared inside but fading, tatty curtains still limply embrace dust-covered window panes.
Peering through the cobwebs of one window, you can see coat hooks bearing the names Diane, Gareth, Peter . . . while sturdy walls bear testimony to benefactors of the past: Thomas Walker of Bolton (1902); Mrs Charles Mitchell of Aigburth, Liverpool (1878); Charles Garrett (1873); Richard Bealey JP (1880); and Rev. James and Alice Haworth "in memory of their beloved son, Richard" (1887).
Outside one, there is a welcome mat but a padlock secures the door and prevents you accepting the "invitation".
All around, the choking weeds are wrapping themselves around the redundant swings on their rusting red frames.
In truth, Crowthorn is a bit of a ghost town at the moment, a not entirely inappropriate epithet given chatter around there of a soldierly apparition stalking the deserted moorland homes.
Crowthorn Village may look a little neglected now but Edgworth Developments Ltd, which bought the site, is buoyed by the immediate interest in it and is busy tidying up the grassed areas and clearing ugly outbuildings to put the £7 million investment to good use.
Developments manager Ritchie Watson said: "Most of the family properties are sold and I think people will very quickly see Crowthorn take on a new, homely look.
"A site like this does not come on the market very often. The transformation will be tasteful and well-managed.
"After that, we will be looking to convert the three main institutional buildings, probably into self-contained luxury apartments and commercial premises."
One of the casualties of that work will be the school's swimming pool, built in 1971.
Crowthorn's sprawling 24-acre site owes its existence to James Barlow, a temperance advocate who bought the Old Wheatsheaf Inn - now Barlow House - then handed it to the orphanage's founder and first principal, Thomas Bowman Stephenson.
He "saved" urchins from the streets of London and brought them north, where they literally helped to build the roof over their heads.
When the books were put away for the day, stone was quarried, land drained and dormitories built.
The village had its own shops, hospital, chapel, even a herd of cattle.
Crowthorn was established as the first National Children's Home (NCH) outside the capital and its strict regime provided for the educational, religious and welfare needs of upwards of 300 children up to 1953.
They got a rudimentary education and learned practical skills such as clog-making, baking and dairying.
For a few years after the Second World War, it doubled as a local secondary modern while the new Turton school - now Turton High - was under construction.
From 1952, it catered for children with special educational needs, both on a boarding and day basis.
Crowthorn, beset by staffing and financial problems, closed in July, 2002, with NCH saying that "the needs of pupils could no longer be met" and that the site would be sold to the highest bidder.
It was a proclamation which had the property developers reaching for their mobile phones.
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