Once upon a time, beyond nine mountains, nine rivers and one English Channel, there was once a Dallmeyer company - I recommend paying particular attention to the position of the letters in the name, it will come in handy in a few moments.

• The london company was founded in 1860 by John Henry Dallmeyer after he had been apprenticed to the equally famous Andrew Ross and even married his daughter. What was the dowry? The lenses? What a dream! Anyway, the company has become one of the most famous and best (not only) lens makers in history - and it's a rich history.
• To this day, the Dallmeyer name has an unshakable position amongst large format photographers. Surely because for example the great and glorious B line (speedy petzvals of uncompromising quality) or the D line (better corrected petzvals with greater coverage but also lower aperture). Again, I just have to recommend the photographer's bible - the Lens Vade Mecum.

Anyway, this is a beautiful brass Dallmaer standing in front of us. Not a Dallmeyer, but a Dallmaer. Trouble is, the maker of "Dallmaer" never existed and there are no records of anything like it. What's going on here? There's more than one option, so let's try to untangle this Gordian knot a bit.

Option one

An engraver working at Dallmeyer's, the night before his shift in the pub, put more effort into the drinking than he had planned and in the morning, while engraving, still wrecked, he didn't master the alphabet at all and a few letters got mixed up, some fell out, but it happens, who is without sin, let him cast the first lens, right. But in that case, half the factory would have to be smashed - such a lens passes through the hands of many people and especially the quality controller of the final product.

So unless the inspector was also an engraver or the company employed a blind man or the local imbecile, this option doesn't seem likely to me. It is also contradicted by the fact that no Dallmeyer ever wore the N. B. 4 markings (the 4B is the closest, but it was a lens of completely different specifications and appearance), and judging by the combination of dimensions, focal length, and aperture, no such lens was even produced. Which brings us to version number two.

The second version

It's just a fake. Forgeries have always been made, for everything and everywhere - and lenses, as a very expensive item, were no exception.

• For a very long time after the invention of photography, this field was the domain of noblemen or other really rich people or professionals. Everything was expensive, and it required a great deal of knowledge that poorer people did not have. It was not uncommon for cameras or lenses of premium qualities to cost as much as a house on the square.

But there are indications that also contradict this variant. In the first place, it would be a very, very high quality copy that can proudly stand alongside the original in appearance (except for the engraving, which is clearly a horror) or performance. What's more - by the various parts of the lens, the manufacturers can usually be pretty well identified and this is highly likely to be the original.

• The best identifying marks (apart from specific engraving styles or laquere colouring) are usually the lenshood, flange, the appearance of the soft-focus mechanism (here typical Dallmeyer I - IIII notches in the rear) or the rack & pinion system.
• Rack & pinion is the name of a wheel with a rod on the chassis of some old lenses, which was used to move the body back and forth on cameras that did not have a bellows and were fixed.

Sure, the dude was just handy, he could be. But why would he put so much effort into such a precise fake, and with specifications that the manufacturer never produced? Shall we untie the knot for a third time?

Option three

The original, which has been deliberately modified. It used to be quite common that the lens was made without the waterhouse stop system and then added back to the lens maker at the customer's request for an upgrade.

• It is a system of insertion stops, so called waterhouse system. It is the successor of the older "washer" systems and the predecessor of the aperture blades we know today. A hole was cut in the lens chassis, into which metal inserts with variously sized holes were inserted, which regulated the amount of light let in and therefore the aperture.

However, such an intervention could have destroyed the original engraving, which the owner decided not to leave alone and, intoxicated with confidence in his own engraving (in)abilities, he wanted to put it back to it's former glory. After careful examination of the lens body, there are indeed indistinct remnants of the original engraving. This option would seem the most likely, though one wonders that such grammatical fussiness followed such careful preparation. Well, not everyone can read. But the careful reader is still puzzled by the remaining discrepancy...