The story of Scotch whisky is so often told in broad strokes — bold men building empires, bold drams poured beside roaring fires — that it’s easy to overlook the quieter figures who shaped its fortunes. Such is the case with the Robertson sisters, whose story is not only a tale of whisky itself, but of what whisky can do when guided by grace, humility, and a profound sense of duty.
The Robertsons were heirs to The Edrington Group, the whisky powerhouse behind such icons as The Macallan, Highland Park, Glenrothes and recently exited brands Glenturret and Famous Grouse. Yet the sisters — Elspeth, Agnes, and Ethel — were anything but dynastic figures. They were private women, raised in a world where wealth was never flaunted and privilege came with a quiet expectation: you used what you had to do some good.
They inherited their stake in Edrington upon the death of their brother, William Robertson, in 1961. And in that moment, they did something almost unthinkable for whisky tycoons — they gave it all away. Not in a grand public gesture, not with champagne receptions or golden plaques, but through the creation of The Robertson Trust, a charitable foundation that would come to define their legacy far more than whisky ever would.
The Trust was — and remains — the largest independent grant-making trust in Scotland. Its focus? Simply put, to improve life in Scotland for those who need it most. Over the decades, it has quietly channelled hundreds of millions into education, community development, and tackling poverty. It has funded everything from university scholarships to grassroots charities, ensuring that wealth born from whisky found its way back to the communities where whisky itself was born.
And yet, for all this benevolence, the sisters themselves remained almost invisible. They had no taste for publicity, no desire to bask in philanthropic glory. They kept their hands firmly on the tiller of the Trust, ensuring that money was spent with the same quiet prudence that had built Edrington’s success in the first place.
There is, I think, something wonderfully Scottish about this whole tale. Whisky — so often romanticised as a drink of bold men and loud tales — in this case became the foundation for a legacy built by women who preferred silence to applause, action to rhetoric. They understood something too often forgotten in our age of relentless self-promotion: that real generosity needs no spotlight.
Today, The Robertson Trust stands as a quiet monument to their vision. The whisky world, of course, remembers Edrington for its great brands and famous bottles. But the deeper legacy — the one that matters most — is measured not in drams or profits, but in lives changed and communities strengthened. And that, if you ask me, is a legacy worthy of a toast.
So, if today International Womans day you pour a dram, raise a glass to Elspeth, Agnes, and Ethel — the Robertson sisters, whose story reminds us that whisky, like life, is at its best when shared.