[Correspondence of the Mobile Tribune.]
from New Orleans.
May 5.
--The proclamation of Gen. Butler to the citizens, announcing how he intends to rule them, is published.
It looks on the face of it merciful and reasonable enough in a conqueror, but you needn't rely on these soft words, for, notwithstanding the minute in his particulars, he is keeping a sharp watch for an opportunity of laying his grasp on some of the prominent men in the city.
Pierre Soule, who has acted as spokesmen for the municipal authorities, will, I am afraid, find himself in trouble soon unless he makes his escape.
Several prominent gentlemen likely to suffer have already prudently retired.
Under the assurance of the enemy's commander, there is a stronger feeling of security among the citizens.
They begin to believe that their houses will not be nasties by the forced presence of the marauder.
They will not be knocked down and ‘"dragged out"’ on the streets, or have their ‘"things"’ stolen indiscriminately.
But this is only the beginning.
Just as soon as the enemy find that they have the city secure, you may look out for a rigorous enforcement of the right of the conqueror to govern as it best leases him.
There is no doubt that a good many are willing to submit to their condition — welcome it. There are persons who have never favored the cause, except as it was needful to do so in order to gather their profits from their business, but I am glad to hear that the honeyed phrases of Gen. Butler's proclamation have not in the least shaken the fealty of the mass of the people.
They are per force held fast, but only await the moment to let the invader know where their hearts and their weapons are.
Very little news can be gathered.
The papers are careful to keep the wolf from their doors.
That is prudent and is a condition precedent of their not being pitched overboard.
The streets are not what they were by a long way. The night is dark, and citizens sit around the circle of their household gods.
There are none of those lively street groups that used to make nightfall pleasant.
People speak with ‘"bated breath;"’ but they keep up a good deal of thinking and in assured coteries express their abhorrence of the foe, and talk in a whisper of the future.
The Creole population, as far as I can learn, are earnestly loyal to their own Government; and it is no secret that there is a vast amount of chagrin and disappointment as regards the tame surrender of the city — not after the enemy's boats reached the city, but in the blunders, or treachery, or lack of zeal in the cause, which induced the fall of the forts and kept unworked the other means to block the advance to the face of the city.
But it is almost with tears that I allude to the subject at all. I have no heart to dwell on the painful subject.
I think, however, that you may rest assured that the present calm of the population is not of despair.--Sixty days the city may be cursed by this foe, but I think not longer, unless disaster follow disaster as for the past months, and no hope shall be left of sweeping the enemy, except Yellow Jack, whose presence hundreds of the true citizens invoke morning, noon and night.
Anything than the presence of the enemy — anything but to feel that the citizens are watched, have no use of their tongues, and may be at any moment scourged or imprisoned, or their property destroyed.
It is a most painful position to any one with a spark of true manhood in his bosom. 