They were monuments to a mighty tyrant. Now Saddam's palaces symbolise a crumbling regime

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,

Look on my works ye Mighty and despair!

No thing beside remains. Round the decay,

Of that Colossal Wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

from 'Ozymandias' by Percy Shelley, 1818

They are the echoing monuments to Iraq's own crumbling pharaoh. Built on the proceeds of his country's oil wealth while his people relied on UN handouts, the doors of some of Saddam Hussein's palaces were thrown open yesterday in the chaos of the war to unseat him.

Shortly after 6am, a phalanx of American soldiers burst through the carved mahogany entrance to the New Presidential Palace in central Baghdad, with its sweeping views of the Tigris and acres of marble flooring. Until four weeks ago, the inner circle of President Saddam's regime may well have sat here discussing their next move to stave off an invasion across the desert wastes.

Last night, a group of grimy GIs was installed amid the gilt furnishings of the Iraqi President in preparation for the takeover of his capital. One soldier suggested he would be having his "first shower in weeks" in the remains of one of the bathrooms where water was still running. In a nearby room, US Army Staff Sergeant Chad Touchett sat back in a faux antique drawing room chair drawing deeply on a cigarette, surrounded by five compadres from Company A.

The palace had not even been defended by the special Republican Guard, the elite force handed the task of guarding the Iraqi leader's "inner cordon". Instead, a confused group of Syrian mercenaries had given it up with minimal resistance – one was hiding in the walk-in fridge – when confronted by the force of 70 American tanks and 60 armoured personnel carriers.

Underlining the sense among the members of the US 3rd Infantry Regiment that their occupation of the enemy's lair was a symbolic victory, Captain Chris Carter, of Watkinsville, Georgia, said: "I do believe this city is freakin' ours."

Their arrival demonstrated that not only was the Iraqi leader's power rapidly waning but also its trappings – ostentatiously amassed at an estimated cost of £1.5bn in the past 12 years alone and as outrageous in their boundless ambition as the man who commissioned them – were liable for summary confiscation by the US government.

President Saddam, like Shelley's Ozymandias, the supreme ruler of ancient Egypt – as Rameses II – likes to crown his victories with the construction of monolithic edifices to stare out over the battlefield.

And some three millennia after Rameses II, Iraq's King of Kings has busied himself since his "triumph" in the 1991 Gulf War – building at least 48 People's Palaces, forbidden to his people by guns and 30ft walls.

The New Presidential Palace, a confection of sand-coloured brick topped with a glittering blue-and-gold dome of ceramic tiles, was completed last year to stand close to the headquarters of the pillar of President Saddam's Iraq, the Baath Party.

As Colin Brazier, of Sky News, one of the reporters accompanying the US forces, put it: "It's an extraordinarily decadent structure. There is Italian marble and gold gilt everywhere. It's about as opulent as you could possibly imagine."

Of the original four floors of the palace, only two were left intact after repeated targeting by American and British aircraft. Parts of the remaining first floor and basement were awash with flood water. But inside, the accoutrements of a regime hooked on glitz and grandeur remained intact: imitation French baroque furniture covered in dust, several televisions in each room, a rooftop swimming pool and, of course, the decor essential for every maniacal despot from Hitler to Nicolae Ceausescu, a marble bathroom with 24-carat gold taps. And, outside is a symbol of the American good life – President Saddam's barbecue.

For the US soldiers leading the incursion into the heart of Baghdad, it was an opportunity to perform the rite of war that accompanies the final days of an autocrat grown fat while his people dwindle – the vicarious thrill of rifling through a dictator's intimate possessions.

The troops leafed through documents and thick vellum stationery, before helping themselves to a few souvenirs in the form of ashtrays, duck-down pillows and gold-painted glassware. It was the equivalent of turning out Imelda Marcos's shoeboxes or rummaging under Idi Amin's bed.

Here was a monument to President Saddam's wastefulness. Beyond the bulkier furnishings and a few plates and dishes in the kitchen, the palace had been cleared of most of its contents. And in true nouveau-riche style, from one gilded and mother-of-pearl soap dish hangs the label attesting that it came from a plush Western supplier. Carrying the manufacturer's initials PD, it read: "Gold-plate finish, pure 24-carat gold."

The total area covered by President Saddam's palaces is some 11.8 square miles – a third of which is covered in artificial lakes, which the Iraqi leader likes to fish. At least 48 of the structures have been built since the end of the 1991 Gulf War at a cost of $2.2bn (£1.4bn). According to the Americans, the money was siphoned from the proceeds of oil smuggling and the resale of World Food Programme rations.

The palaces are not only homes but military strongholds of the man who considers himself a latter-day Saladin, vanquisher of the Crusader armies and leader of all the Muslims. The jewel is the Republican Palace in Baghdad, which consists of more than 700 buildings including President Saddam's private offices, the headquarters of the Special Security Force and a bunker designed to withstand nuclear attack. As the 3rd Infantry, supported by US Marines, fortified their toehold at the New Palace, the Republican Palace was expected to be their next target.