The baths of Titus are on the AEsquiline; and nothing remains of them but piles of brickwork, and a few subterranean chambers almost choked with rubbish.  Some fragments of exquisite arabesque painting are visible on the ceilings and walls; and the gilding and colours are still fresh and bright.  The brickwork is perfectly solid and firm, and appeared as if finished yesterday.  On the whole the impression on my mind was, that not the slow and gentle hand of time, but sudden rapine and violence had caused the devastation around us; and looking into Nardini on my return, I found that the baths of Titus were nearly entire in the thirteenth century, but were demolished with great labour and difficulty by the ferocious Senator Brancaleone, who, about the year 1257, destroyed an infinite number of ancient edifices, “per togliere ai Nobili il modo di fortificarsi.”  The ruins were excavated during the pontificate of Julius the Second, and under the direction of Raffaelle, who is supposed to have taken the idea of the arabesques in the Loggie of the Vatican, from the paintings here.  We were shown the niche in which the Laocoon stood, when it was discovered in 1502.  After leaving the baths, we entered the neighbouring church of San Pietro in Vincoli, to look again at the beautiful fluted Doric columns which once adorned the splendid edifice of Titus:  and on this occasion we were shown the chest in which the fetters of St. Peter are preserved in a triple enclosure of iron, wood, and silver.  My unreasonable curiosity not being satisfied by looking at the mere outside of this sacred coffer, I turned to the monk who exhibited it, and civilly requested that he would open it, and show us the miraculous treasure it contained.  The poor man looked absolutely astounded and aghast at the audacity of my request, and stammered out, that the coffer was never opened, without a written order from his holiness the pope, and in the presence of a cardinal, and, that this favour was never granted to a heretic (con rispetto parlando); and with this excuse we were obliged to be satisfied.

The church of San Martino del Monte is built on part of the substructure of the baths of Titus; and there is a door opening from the church, by which you descend into the ancient subterranean vaults.  The small, but exquisite pillars, and the pavement, which is of the richest marbles, were brought from the Villa of Adrian at Tivoli.  The walls were painted in fresco by Nicolo and Gaspar Poussin, and were once a celebrated study for young landscape painters; almost every vestige of colouring is now obliterated by the damp which streams down the walls.  There are some excellent modern pictures in good preservation, I think by Carluccio.  This church, though not large, is one of the most magnificent we have yet seen, and the most precious materials are lavished in profusion on every part.  The body of Cardinal Tomasi is preserved here, embalmed in a glass case.  It is exhibited conspicuously, and in my life I never saw (or smelt) anything so abominable and disgusting.