Tuesday, 19 April 2016



I am sure all of the readers of this volume will be familiar with the broad outline of the story I tell on these pages. You may have read my book “A Journey to Waring Blanc Land and an Account of the Wonders Discovered There”.  Unfortunately, events on the continent of Europe have diverted attention from our momentous discoveries and now the principal actors of this tale are gathered together again, in the Amazonian city of Manaós, preparing to travel back to the lost plateau of Waring Blanc Land. I am using this time to complete this private and alternative account of the well-known events that took place in the jungles of South America some three years ago. You may well have also read my dispatches in my newspaper, The Daily Courier, but this account, limited to just two hundred copies, of a much more intimate nature, is intended solely for the select members, both ladies and gentlemen, of a Society referred to in these pages. 

The genesis of this book came about following discussions I had with the publisher, Mr Dupont, at the Hampshire home of Lord James Hoxton before our departure to South America in the spring of 1912. For our adventures were not just among the prehistoric creatures of our lost world but included sexual adventures of the most lascivious sort. 

The principal actors in this drama are, of course, well known, but I have been assured, by the Society’s formidable owner and directrice, that the subscribers to this volume will keep its existence and contents strictly confidential. Some of the names of those depicted within its pages have, however, been changed. 

The fact that you hold this volume in your hands indicates, given your membership of the Society, that you are a sexual adventurer in the same manner that we were adventurers in the uncharted lands of Amazonia. However, as this volume relates, these sexual adventures (and the author’s in particular) began before our departure and these adventures, of the most licentious sort, actually impacted upon our behaviour on the lost plateau. As a result, and I beg your indulgence in this, I will take rather more pages to describe the events in England prior to our departure than in my conventional account. However, the publisher has assured me that the subscribers of this edition will enjoy the intimate level of detail I have been asked to include in this narrative. 

 So settle down next to a warming fire, arrange a decanter of port or whiskey to be by your side, wear loose clothing, perhaps, and prepare to escape into arousing worlds of adventure and passion which, in these war-torn times, seem like a nostalgic dream of a more bucolic time. 

Edmund Molloy. Manaós, Brazil. June 1915

Chapter 1 is here.

Notes on this preface can be found here.