Nineteenth-century historian Paterson described it as being "on the south bank, not far from the 'Craigs o'Kyle', and a more lovely spot never inspired a poet's fancy.

The Coyl winds round the mill in serpentine form, in a dark, deep, and rather narrow stream, over which the ash and elm throw their gigantic arms, and in summer, with their waving foliage, almost prevent the sun's beams from playing upon its waters.

Murray sold the Sundrum part of the barony with the mill and lands of Milnmannoch (sic) and Bankhead to one John Hamilton and it remained with the family for one hundred and fifty five years.

[1] Part of the smithy at Millmannoch was still standing in the early 20th century with in front of it a large granite boulder sunk to ground level with a "dog" fixed into it for cart wheel shods, the metal band or ring on a cartwheel.

It operated at speed of 450 revolutions and if the gate was fully opened moved 600 cubic feet of water per minute through a single pipe of 21 in.

One of them was flint of the "Doggerbank" or "Grime's Graves" class, well shaped, rounded on the face with the other end narrow and had been sharp.

Burns knew the Mannoch Road well, having been seen passing the mill on several recorded occasions on journeys from Mauchline to Dalrymple, when one John Thom was the miller.

[11] He then had it cut down and the trunk divided into sections that were sent to the Mauchline box works where they were made into gavels and small plaques bearing the appropriate words from his poem.

[6] Seedlings from the original tree were cultivated and one was replanted, a set of iron railings proving to be necessary to deter souvenir collectors.

The tree is healthy; however, it and its railings were slipping down into the Water of Coyle circa 2010 on a section of road now closed to vehicles and, in theory, pedestrians.

A previous owner, Claude Hamilton, took great care of both and Wilson did likewise, with the result that the plane tree still stood in 1937, then valued at anything from £50 to £100.