The Third of May 1808 in Madrid, or “The Executions”

During the night of 2 May and into the early hours of 3 May 1808, French forces rounded up Spaniards believed to have participated in the rebellion. Many were taken outside Madrid and executed by firing squads. Historical reports indicate that the victims included ordinary labourers, artisans, policemen and other civilians rather than celebrated military heroes.

Goya chose this moment—not the excitement of battle, but the terrifying moment immediately before death.

On the right side of the painting, the French soldiers stand tightly together with their backs toward us. Their faces cannot be seen. Their bodies, uniforms and rifles form an almost mechanical wall. They appear less like individual men and more like an anonymous machine built for killing.

Facing them is a group of Spanish prisoners.

At the centre, a man wearing a brilliant white shirt and yellow trousers kneels with his arms stretched wide. The lantern on the ground throws intense light across his body, making him the brightest part of the entire composition.

His pose immediately recalls the crucifixion of Christ. His arms form a cross-like shape, and a mark visible on his hand has often been interpreted as resembling Christ’s wounds. Goya, however, does not portray him as a distant religious figure. He looks like an ordinary man experiencing very real terror.

His expression is one of the most powerful elements of the painting.

His eyes are wide open. He looks directly toward the rifles pointed at him. He understands exactly what is about to happen.

Around him, other prisoners respond differently. One covers his face with his hands. Another bows his head. A monk kneels in prayer. Behind them, more condemned men wait for their turn.

In front of the central figure lie men who have already been executed. Their bodies are piled on the ground, and blood spreads beside them.

Goya therefore presents three moments of death simultaneously: those already killed, the man about to die, and the prisoners waiting behind him.

This structure makes the painting feel almost like time moving from one side of the canvas to the other.

The lantern is especially important. Normally, light in traditional religious painting might represent divine presence or salvation. Here, the lantern performs a far more disturbing function: it allows the soldiers to see the people they are about to kill.

The same light that makes the victim appear almost sacred also assists the execution.

Behind everything is darkness.

Madrid can barely be seen in the distance, while the executions take place against a barren hillside. Civilization appears far away. There are no heroic generals, grand monuments or glorious military banners. Instead, Goya concentrates completely on the victims and the violence being done to them.

This was highly unusual for historical painting at the time.

Traditional battle paintings often celebrated victories, commanders and heroic sacrifice. Goya did almost the opposite. His French soldiers have no individuality, and the Spanish prisoners are frightened ordinary people. War is presented without glory.

There is another important historical detail: Goya probably did not personally witness this exact execution scene. The composition is a dramatic reconstruction rather than a documentary record. Some details were deliberately altered to strengthen its emotional impact.

By 1814, Napoleon’s forces had been driven from Spain and Ferdinand VII had returned. In February of that year, Goya wrote to the Spanish Regency expressing his desire to use his brush to commemorate the most important and heroic episodes of the Spanish uprising against Napoleon. His proposal was accepted, and he produced The Second of May 1808 and The Third of May 1808.

Yet The Third of May is much more than a patriotic celebration.

There is very little triumph in it.

Instead, Goya created one of history’s most direct images of what happens when armed power is turned against defenseless people. The executioners remain anonymous while the victims retain their fear, individuality and humanity.

That reversal is one reason the painting became so influential.

Later artists repeatedly returned to its composition when depicting political violence and execution. Its influence can be seen in works such as Édouard Manet’s paintings of the execution of Emperor Maximilian and, more indirectly, Pablo Picasso’s Massacre in Korea.

Today, The Third of May 1808 remains in the Museo del Prado in Madrid, where it is preserved alongside its companion painting.

More than two centuries after the events it represents, the painting remains powerful because Goya did not make it only about Spain or Napoleon.

He made it about something universal.

On one side stands organized violence: uniforms, rifles, obedience and anonymity.

On the other stands a frightened human being with his arms open, fully illuminated, with nowhere left to escape.

That contrast transformed a specific execution in Madrid into one of the most enduring artistic statements against the brutality of war.