Plaza del Dos de Mayo: The Arch of Monteleón
Why is it significant?
Walk into the square and find the brick arch standing alone in the middle, a gateway that leads nowhere, with two stone officers standing beneath it. On a summer evening the benches around it are full of people with cans and guitars, and almost nobody looks at the arch. They should.
Key Facts
| Place | Plaza del Dos de Mayo: The Arch of Monteleón |
|---|---|
| Address | Plaza del Dos de Mayo, 28004 Madrid, Spain |
| Geo Coordinates | 40.42700, -3.70410 |
| Part of Walk | From the Dos de Mayo to La Movida: Malasaña & Chueca, Madrid's Rebel Quarters |
| Generated | Generated |
Walk into the square and find the brick arch standing alone in the middle, a gateway that leads nowhere, with two stone officers standing beneath it. On a summer evening the benches around it are full of people with cans and guitars, and almost nobody looks at the arch. They should.
On the second of May 1808, Madrid rose against the French troops occupying the city. On this spot stood the Monteleón artillery park, set in an old palace. Two artillery captains, Luis Daoíz and Pedro Velarde, had orders to stay neutral. Instead they opened the gates, handed weapons to the neighbours, and defended the barracks for hours against the French. Both were killed. The arch is the old entrance of that barracks, the last piece left standing, and the statues beneath it are Daoíz and Velarde. The executions that followed were later painted by Goya in The Second of May and The Third of May.
And then there is Manuela Malasaña, a young seamstress, around seventeen years old, killed by French soldiers that day. The stories differ. One says she was carrying the scissors of her trade, and the French, who had banned all weapons, treated them as one. Another says she was helping her father bring ammunition to the defenders. Whatever happened, her name outlived the facts, and in the twentieth century this whole barrio began to be called Malasaña.
A hundred and seventy years later, this square found a new kind of rebellion. Around 1980 it became the open-air living room of La Movida: bands, poets, photographers and night owls drifting between the bars of the surrounding streets, and the neighbourhood fiestas of the second of May turning into concerts. The same square, the same gate, a very different soundtrack.
Look at the street names around you: Daoíz, Velarde, Manuela Malasaña. The whole grid is a memorial to one day. Now leave the square heading north-east, past Calle de Manuela Malasaña, to the busy roundabout of the Glorieta de Bilbao and its grand old café.