Europe had a new royal house last week. In
Dublin newspapers appeared a personal pronouncement: “I, Prince Michael
Neale, landowner, will assume the title of Prince of the Saltees at the
conclusion of the war. Also I wish it to be known that no one will be
permitted to enter the Saltee Islands without a permit issued by me.”
Anybody caught interfering with the millions of birds or their eggs
which inhabit those islands will be severely dealt with.Prince Michael Neale is Eire's No. 1 manufacturer of cattle dip. As a
County Wexford farmer's son, he used to lie on a cliff top in the long
grass and gaze south across St. George's Channel to the tiny, haze-blue
Saltee Islands. Since his first name was legally Prince, it was easy
for a farm boy to daydream: “Some day I'll own those islands and become
a real prince.” He took to calling the Saltees “Paradise.”By last year he had sold enough dip to buy the Saltees. He began
planting 3,000 trees, developing his domain as a luxury tourist resort.
He also talked about recruiting a private army.But last week Prince Neale had a right royal headache. To a reporter the
Dublin prince-presumptive confided: “My wife, a Liverpool woman, is a
bit shy about using the title of Princess. . . .” He added
thoughtfully: “Anyone who does not call me Prince will be ignored.”
