Friedrich-Wilhelm-Höhe

Did Friedrich Wilhelm I ever imagine, as he surveyed the marshy expanse that would become Friedrich-Wilhelm-Höhe, that it would one day offer breathtaking views of Potsdam? Friedrich-Wilhelm-Höhe, as we know it, didn’t exist in his time. The area outside the city gates was a swampy, uninviting landscape. Yet, it was here that the “Soldier King” sought to create a new kind of pleasure garden. Not the elaborate, manicured gardens of his father, Friedrich I. No, Friedrich Wilhelm I desired a practical, profitable garden. He envisioned rows of fruit trees, orderly vegetable patches, and perhaps a simple pavilion for dining. This was the genesis of the Marly Garden, named after the French King Louis XIV’s magnificent estate, Marly-le-Roi, though considerably more modest. Imagine Friedrich Wilhelm I strolling through his nascent garden. He personally sets the prices for the surplus produce, obligating his officers and civil servants to buy. The garden wasn’t merely for leisurely strolls. It also housed a bowling alley, a greenhouse for exotic plants, a melon-growing area, and even a shooting range. Legend has it that the king held his famed “Tobacco College” here, puffing away with his officers. A small, square building called the Gloriette once stood at the center of what is now Bassinplatz. It offered a key vantage point within the second Baroque city expansion. Some whisper that the king used the Gloriette for his Tobacco College. However, only one documented meal is known to have taken place there. The journey for food across the water likely proved too tedious for regular dining. Friedrich-Wilhelm-Höhe, as a viewpoint, emerged much later, after extensive landscaping. The Marly Garden’s original pavilion was demolished under Friedrich II, the stones reused for the head gardener’s house. The famed landscape architect, Peter Joseph Lenné, redesigned the entire area in the 19th century, creating the picturesque setting we appreciate today. The Gloriette itself, sadly, met its end in 1947. It was demolished to make way for a Soviet war memorial. But if you stand here, on Friedrich-Wilhelm-Höhe, and let your gaze sweep over the city, you can almost picture the “Soldier King” envisioning his practical paradise.