McDowell's Herbal Supplements And Winterwood Horses
Catherine Cox
From Settlement to Now: A Family Journey in Bathurst
Where It All Began
Our roots in Bathurst go way back – to the early 1800s, when the idea of building a life west of the Blue Mountains was seen as bold, even dangerous. My ancestors were among the first settlers who made that journey, some as free settlers and others with more complicated beginnings, arriving as convicts looking to forge a new life. They came with nothing but courage and a belief that they could make something of themselves on the frontier.
Bathurst in those days was harsh and raw. The land was both beautiful and unforgiving. My family started out with small land grants, building slab huts by hand, cutting timber, and planting what little they could. Farming was hard, but they held on – driven by a stubborn spirit and the hope that Bathurst could be a place to grow roots.
One of the places that shaped me most deeply was SALTRAM, one of the original land grants in Bathurst. The Cox family purchased SALTRAM from George Rankin in the late 1800s. Rankin himself played a key role in developing the village of Eglinton. SALTRAM remained the heart of our family's story for generations and is still with us today.
The Gold Rush and Turning Points
By the 1850s, everything changed with the gold rush. My great-great-grandfather tried his luck at Ophir and later Hill End. Like most, he didn’t strike it rich, but he earned enough to buy a little land and start a new life. That moment changed everything for our family. It gave us a foothold – a small sheep property just outside of Bathurst that stayed with us for generations.
The town itself grew quickly – more roads, schools, and the arrival of the railway. My family adapted – some stayed on the land, others moved into town to work in stores, schools, or trades. We’ve always been a mix of practical, hardworking people – never flashy, but steady.
The War Years and a Deep Family Imprint
Like many families, we lost people to both World Wars. My grandfather, Herbert Cox, served in World War I as an artillery wagon driver. He came home, but he was never the same. I knew him well – a quiet, kind man who carried the deep trauma of the war in his bones.
His father, my great-grandfather, wasn’t happy when Herbert enlisted – especially because he encouraged his younger brother, Colin, to join him. Colin was just a boy when he signed up. He didn’t die on the battlefield but passed away in a military hospital in Rouen, France. He is buried there. That loss cast a long shadow over the family – a deep sorrow that never left them.
Despite the hardship, Herbert found solace in the land and in horses. He was a traditional farmer and a great lover of horses. Alongside his wife, Adele Gertrude, they continued to use horse-drawn equipment well into the years when others had moved on. When I was a child, the sheds were still filled with relics of that time – sulkies, chaff cutters, drays, and harvesters once pulled by majestic 18-hand-high draft horses. The leather harnesses still hung in their places, dusty and worn. Sadly, like much of the farm’s old infrastructure, they were never preserved and have since fallen into decay.
A Childhood on SALTRAM
I grew up on SALTRAM, surrounded by history, stories, and the enduring beauty of the land. My father, Lindsay Cox, was an agricultural pilot, a farmer, and a local businessman. My mother, Valerie Cox (née Honeyman), was a deeply supportive wife and mother, artistic and with a sharp eye for beauty – she appreciated the aesthetic in everything.
What stood out to me growing up was how our family kept to more traditional methods of animal husbandry. The old farm library was filled with thick compendiums of home remedies, recipes, and first aid manuals – a treasure trove of folk knowledge. I was drawn to them from an early age, flipping through pages that held wisdom passed down from generations before me.
My Own Path
That early fascination with horses and herbs shaped the path I would later follow. I’ve always loved life on the land and felt deeply connected to Bathurst and its roots. That passion led me to study herbal medicine – I graduated from both the Dorothy Hall and Dennis Stewart schools – and to dedicate myself to the classical training of horses.
I’ve seen Bathurst grow from a big country town into a thriving regional centre. The university brought fresh energy and new ideas. Mount Panorama put us on the map. Over time, the place evolved – blending history with progress, old with new.
Love, Land, and New Directions
When I met David Mansfield, I wasn’t just meeting a life partner – I was meeting someone who shared a deep connection to the land . Although from the eastern Suburbs of Sydney ,His family ( the McKenna’s) also hails from this region and it it’s fascinating to research how our lives have crossed paths over the last few decades , but never met until destiny took its hand.
Together, we’ve continued to grow McDowell’s Herbal Treatments – now known far and wide as McDowell’s Herbal. It's an apothecary of sorts, rooted in traditional herbal knowledge but brought to life with modern understanding. What started small – just a few blends for local clients – soon grew. Word spread, and before long we were sending remedies across Australia and even overseas.
At the heart of our work is Winterwood Farm, just outside Bathurst. It’s more than a place – it’s a sanctuary. It’s where we breed , train and rehabilitate horses, and provide sanctuary for native wildlife . It’s where the land, animals, and people all have a chance to restore and thrive.
Why We’ve Always Stayed
People often ask why we’ve never left Bathurst. And I always say – why would we?
This land is more than home – it’s part of me. Our family has been here for over 200 years. The seasons, the rhythm of the land, the people – they’re in our blood. We’ve lived through floods, fires, economic shifts, and personal loss – but also through births, beginnings, and a quiet sense of purpose.
We’ve stayed because of community. Because of neighbourly hands and familiar faces. Because when times were tough, Bathurst never let us down – and we’ve never let it down either.
There’s a way of life here that suits the soul. People wave on country roads. You know your butcher, your neighbour, your vet. You get space to dream – and roots to stay grounded.
Looking Ahead
Now, with children and grandchildren finding their own paths – some here, some farther afield – I find myself reflecting more. Bathurst isn’t just our past; it’s still our future.
McDowell’s is evolving, and so is the land at Winterwood. New generations are bringing new energy, fresh eyes. But the heart of it all – love for the land, commitment to healing, and connection to community – remains unchanged.
This story – our story – is about holding onto values that matter: kindness, resilience, and reverence for the land. It’s about legacy – not just what we leave behind, but what we nurture while we’re here.
And for me, it all comes back to Bathurst – the town that gave us a beginning and continues to give us reasons to stay.
Yinaagalangbu, gibirbangbu, buraaygalangbu gawaymbanhadhu nginyalgir Wiradjurigu ngurambanggu.
Ladies, gentleman and children welcome to Wiradjuri and to country.