Long before Highland Park became a recognised single malt, its founder, Magnus “Mansie” Eunson, was a local church beadle and part-time whisky smuggler in Orkney. According to Highland Park, Eunson spent years hiding bottles of whisky beneath his pulpit before obtaining his first whisky-making licence in 1798. More than two centuries later, the distillery still describes itself as following Mansie’s lead by making whisky its own way.
That makes Highland Park’s origin story more than an amusing piece of whisky history. It is the beginning of a much longer story about resourcefulness, independence and craft. The interesting part is that those qualities did not disappear when the brand became premium. Some of them remain firmly embedded in how the whisky is made today.
When the hustle was very literal
Eunson’s story begins in an Orkney that was a long way from the world of luxury spirits. As a church beadle, he had a respectable role in his community, but he was also making whisky on the side and keeping it out of sight of the authorities. The pulpit of his church became an unlikely hiding place for bottles until he eventually secured a licence in 1798.
There is a certain irony in the story. The man who once had to conceal his whisky would eventually lend his name, indirectly, to a distillery whose bottles are now displayed openly around the world. More important, however, is what happened after those early years. Highland Park developed an identity around doing things its own way, shaped by its remote island home and the traditions that survived there.
Orkney remains central to that character. The island sits far from mainland Scotland, and Highland Park attributes much of its approach to the creative and resourceful spirit of the people who live there. That sense of independence is part of the brand’s identity, from the way it makes its whisky to the ingredients it draws from the landscape.
In other words, the hustle became part of the heritage.
The old craft still has a place
Walk through Highland Park’s distillery today and some of that history is still visible. The distillery in Kirkwall continues to use two traditional kilns to dry its hand-turned malted barley, maintaining a practice it says it has perfected over more than 200 years. Its youngest kiln, known as the New Kiln, is itself more than a century old.
Hand-turning barley is not the kind of detail most people notice when they see a finished bottle on a shelf. Yet it is precisely the sort of work that gives a heritage brand substance. The process requires time and attention, even in an industry where technology could make many things faster. Highland Park has retained it as part of the character of the whisky and its connection to traditional production.
The same thinking extends to the use of Orkney’s heathered peat. Highland Park sources peat from Hobbister Moor, where the heather that grows across the landscape gives the peat its own aromatic character. When used to smoke the malt, it contributes the subtle, distinctive smoke found in the whisky.
It is an approach that feels increasingly relevant in a world where consumers want to know not only what they are buying, but where it comes from and how it was made. For Highland Park, that story has been developing for more than two centuries.
Nothing artificial about the colour
Then there is the colour.
Pour Highland Park into a glass and its deep gold and amber tones are immediately visible. That colour comes from the cask, not from a process designed simply to make the whisky appear darker or more luxurious. Highland Park states that its casks provide 100% of the colour of its whisky, and its redesigned bottle was created in part to make those natural hues easier to see.
It is a small detail, but it fits neatly into the larger story. The whisky’s appearance comes from its maturation, just as its smoke comes from Orkney peat and its production still carries techniques that have survived for generations. Even something as simple as the colour in the glass has a process behind it.
That is perhaps what makes the heritage worth talking about. Highland Park does not have to manufacture an old-world image around the whisky. Much of what makes the bottle distinctive is already there in the way it is made.
This is where Highland Park’s history begins to feel surprisingly familiar to a Nigerian audience.
Lagos understands resourcefulness. It understands people building something with limited resources, finding unconventional solutions and turning persistence into progress. The city’s idea of hustle is not simply about working hard. It is often about figuring things out, adapting and creating a path where one does not appear to exist.
Highland Park’s story is not the same, of course. Its history belongs to Orkney, and it should remain rooted there. But there is something recognisable in the instinct to do things differently. Magnus Eunson started with whisky hidden beneath a church pulpit. More than 200 years later, Highland Park still hand-turns its malted barley, still uses Orkney heathered peat and still places the character of its island home at the centre of its whisky.
The circumstances have changed dramatically. The commitment to doing things differently has not. That may be the most interesting part of Highland Park’s heritage: the resourcefulness that shaped its beginnings still has a place in the way the whisky is made today.
The original hustle became the standard
There are plenty of old whisky brands with long histories. What makes Highland Park’s story worth revisiting is the thread connecting its unusual beginning to the whisky being made today.
In 1798, Eunson was finding a way to make and protect his whisky in an environment where doing so outside the law was risky. Today, the brand’s definition of doing things its own way is expressed through traditions such as hand-turning malted barley, using Orkney heathered peat and allowing the cask to provide the whisky’s natural colour.
The story has moved from a hidden bottle beneath a pulpit to bottles displayed openly around the world. Yet the instinct behind it remains familiar: make something distinctive, stay true to the process and keep finding a way to do it your own way.
Perhaps that is the real legacy of the original Highland Park hustle. It did not disappear when the brand became premium. It became the craft.