The extraordinary thing about the Aldobrandini Tazze is that, despite being well-known to connoisseurs, little is known about their origins. Indeed, establishing the precise history of the Silver Caesars has eluded scholars for centuries. We cannot say for certain who they were made for, when they were fashioned, or why.

Still, Siemon believes that she and her collaborators on the Waddesdon exhibition, The Silver Caesars: A Renaissance Mystery (which was first staged at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art last year), have found an elegant solution to the riddle of these impressive table ornaments, which were probably intended only for display, and never actually used for serving food. And following her sleuthing step by step makes for a fascinating art-historical detective story.

Lock up the silver

In fairness, there are good reasons why confusion surrounds the Silver Caesars. Masetti’s letter is one of only a handful of documents that shed light upon their early history; unfortunately, none survives informing us of their original owner. Nor do any of the dishes conveniently carry a mark or guild stamp telling us where and when it was made. Moreover, the cups were designed in parts so they could be easily dismantled for storage or transportation; as a result, over the centuries, various elements were unscrewed, mixed up, sold off, and scattered.

In 1826, all 12 tazze materialised, seemingly out of thin air, in England, when they were misattributed to the celebrated Florentine goldsmith Benvenuto Cellini. At some point during the 19th Century, the tazze were also gilded, while half had their original fluted feet and stems replaced with elaborate substitutes.