It reads: "To the prosperity of Nash 1776 D.H. Bulle." The stone was not carved for the mill at all; it was rescued from Brinny House, a neighbouring property demolished in 1982, and relocated to the rear of the building where it still sits. It is the kind of detail that tends to fall out of official accounts, a fragment of an eighteenth-century household's self-regard, adrift from the walls it was made for.

The mill itself appears on the Ordnance Survey six-inch map of 1842, marked as an L-shaped flour mill, and the surviving structure matches that description closely. It is a six-bay, four-storey building running northeast to southwest along a gentle slope, with a gabled extension at the northwest end and a later three-bay, three-storey addition at the northeast end, probably dating from the late nineteenth century, built to the same roofline as the original so that the whole reads as a single composition. The mill race, a channel cut to divert water from the Brinny river to drive the wheel, approaches from the north and is still largely intact, though it has run dry. A mill race is essentially an engineered watercourse, often lined and carefully graded, designed to deliver a controlled flow to the wheel with enough force to turn it reliably. The wheel itself is long gone. According to local memory, it was removed in the late 1960s along with the internal gearing and fittings, replaced at that point with modern milling machinery. Millstones, the heavy paired grinding discs that were the practical heart of any flour mill, still lie nearby, too cumbersome to have been cleared away when everything else was stripped out.