His first care after the war was, as far as possible, to enable the country to recover from the terrific blows by which it had been almost destroyed; and he was never, either before or after, seen to better advantage than in the measures he adopted for this end. Although his resources had been so completely drained that he had been forced to melt the silver in his palaces and to debase the coinage, his energy soon brought back the national prosperity. Pomerania and Neumark were freed from taxation for two years, Silesia for six months. Many nobles whose lands had been wasted received corn for seed; his war horses were within a few months to be found on farms all over Prussia; and money was freely spent in the re-erection of houses which had been destroyed. The coinage was gradually restored to its proper value, and trade received a favourable impulse by the foundation of the Bank of Berlin. All these matters were carefully looked into by Frederick himself, who, while acting as generously as his circumstances would allow, insisted on everything being done in the most efficient manner at the least possible cost. Unfortunately, he adopted the French ideas of excise, and the French methods of imposing and collecting taxes--a system known as the Regie. This system secured for him a large revenue, but it led to a vast amount of petty tyranny, which was all the more intolerable because it was carried out by French officials. It was continued to the end of Frederick's reign, and nothing did so much to injure his otherwise immense popularity. He was quite aware of the discontent the system excited, and the good-nature with which he tolerated the criticisms directed against it and him is illustrated by a well-known incident. Riding along the Jaeger Strasse one day, he saw a crowd of people. "See what it is," he said to the groom who was attending him. "They have something posted up about your Majesty," said the groom, returning. Frederick, riding forward, saw a caricature of himself: "King in very melancholy guise," says Preuss (as translated by Carlyle), "seated on a stool, a coffee-mill between his knees, diligently grinding with the one hand, and with the other picking up any bean that might have fallen. 'Hang it lower,' said the king, beckoning his groom with a wave of the finger; 'lower, that they may not have to hurt their necks about it.' No sooner were the words spoken, which spread instantly, than there rose from the whole crowd one universal huzzah of joy. They tore the caricature into a thousand pieces, and rolled after the king with loud '_Lebe Hoch_, our Frederick for ever,' as he rode slowly away." There are scores of anecdotes about Frederick, but not many so well authenticated as this.