When Eugène Delacroix exhibited Medea about to Kill her Children at the Salon of 1862, critics were shocked by the raw violence and psychological intensity on display. The subject—Medea’s murder of her own sons—had haunted European artists for centuries, but Delacroix’s vision was so unsettling that some viewers reportedly turned away. Even Charles Baudelaire, an admirer of Delacroix, described the painting as “terrible and magnificent.” The work stands as one of the artist’s last major mythological canvases, created only a year before his death. At the heart of the painting, Medea clutches her two children, her body twisted in desperation as she recoils from unseen pursuers.

The moment Delacroix chose is the instant before the fatal act, when Medea, betrayed by Jason, is cornered and sees no escape but vengeance. The children’s terrified faces contrast with their mother’s wild, haunted expression; her arm, tense and muscular, wields the knife, while her other hand restrains the boys. The dramatic play of light and shadow heightens the sense of impending doom, casting Medea as both victim and perpetrator.

Unlike Jacques-Louis David’s more restrained Medea and Her Children, Delacroix’s composition is chaotic and turbulent, emphasizing emotion over classical order. The precise medium of Medea about to Kill her Children is not always specified in records, though it is generally accepted to be oil on canvas, typical of Delacroix’s large-scale works. The painting’s early history is not fully documented, but it was acquired by the French state and entered the Musée du Louvre, where it remains today. As one of Delacroix’s final mythological subjects, it encapsulates his lifelong fascination with drama and color, and his break from the neoclassical restraint of his predecessors.

The painting continues to be a touchstone for discussions of violence, motherhood, and the expressive power of Romantic art.