Jewelled arms and trappings became very rich in the fifteenth century.  Pius II. writes of the German armour:  “What shall I say of the neck chains of the men, and the bridles of the horses, which are made of the purest gold; and of the spears and scabbards which are covered with jewels?” Spurs were also set with jewels, and often damascened with gold, and ornamented with appropriate mottoes.

An inventory of the jewelled cups and reliquaries of Queen Jeanne of Navarre, about 1570, reads like a museum.  She had various gold and jewelled dishes for banquets; one jewel is described as “Item, a demoiselle of gold, represented as riding upon a horse, of mother of pearl, standing upon a platform of gold, enriched with ten rubies, six turquoises and three fine pearls.”  Another item is, “A fine rock crystal set in gold, enriched with three rubies, three emeralds, and a large sapphire, set transparently, the whole suspended from a small gold chain.”

It is time now to speak of the actual precious stones themselves, which apart from their various settings are, after all, the real jewels.  According to Cellini there are only four precious stones:  he says they are made “by the four elements,” ruby by fire, sapphire by air, emerald by earth, and diamond by water.  It irritated him to have any one claim others as precious stones.  “I have a thing or two to say,” he remarks, “in order not to scandalize a certain class of men who call themselves jewellers, but may be better likened to hucksters, or linen drapers, pawn brokers, or grocers... with a maximum of credit and a minimum of brains... these dunderheads... wag their arrogant tongues at me and cry, ’How about the chrysophrase, or the jacynth, how about the aqua marine, nay more, how about the garnet, the vermeil, the crysolite, the plasura, the amethyst?  Ain’t these all stones and all different?’ Yes, and why the devil don’t you add pearls, too, among the jewels, ain’t they fish bones?” Thus he classes the stones together, adding that the balas, though light in colour, is a ruby, and the topaz a sapphire.  “It is of the same hardness, and though of a different colour, must be classified with the sapphire:  what better classification do you want? hasn’t the air got its sun?”

Cellini always set the coloured stones in a bezel or closed box of gold, with a foil behind them.  He tells an amusing story of a ruby which he once set on a bit of frayed silk instead of on the customary foil.  The result happened to be most brilliant.  The jewellers asked him what kind of foil he had used, and he replied that he had employed no foil.  Then they exclaimed that he must have tinted it, which was against all laws of jewelry.  Again Benvenuto swore that he had neither used foil, nor had he done anything forbidden or unprofessional to the stone.  “At this the jeweller got a little nasty, and used strong language,” says Cellini.  They then offered to pay well for the information if Cellini would inform them by what means he had obtained so remarkably a lustre.  Benvenuto, expressing himself indifferent to pay, but “much honoured in thus being able to teach his teachers,” opened the setting and displayed his secret, and all parted excellent friends.