The house of David tore itself apart from the inside. It started with a crime so vile that Josephus, writing in the first century CE, could barely contain his disgust—and it ended with a prince hanging from a tree by his own famous hair.
Amnon, David's firstborn son, became obsessed with his half-sister Tamar. Beautiful beyond compare, she shared a mother with Absalom, David's third son. Amnon's cousin Jonadab—described by Josephus as "an extraordinary wise man" in the worst possible way—devised a scheme. Amnon pretended to be sick. He begged David to send Tamar to cook for him. When she arrived and prepared cakes in his chamber, he sent the servants away. Then he forced her (2 Samuel 13:14).
Tamar tore her garment—the long-sleeved coat that marked her as a virgin princess—poured ashes on her head, and walked wailing through the streets of Jerusalem. Absalom found her, told her to keep quiet, and took her into his house. But behind his calm words, rage was building.
Two years he waited. Then Absalom invited all the king's sons to a sheep-shearing feast at Baalhazor and ordered his servants to kill Amnon when he was drunk. They obeyed. The other princes fled in terror. David collapsed in grief.
Absalom escaped to his grandfather's kingdom in Geshur and stayed three years. When he finally returned to Jerusalem—through Joab's clever manipulation using an old woman's parable—David refused to see him for two more years. Absalom forced a meeting by setting Joab's barley field on fire. The reconciliation that followed was hollow.
For four years, Absalom stood at the city gates, intercepting anyone seeking justice from the king. "If only I were judge," he'd say, "I would give you a fair hearing." He kissed every petitioner. He stole the hearts of Israel. Then he went to Hebron, declared himself king, and marched on Jerusalem with a massive army—taking David's own counselor Ahithophel with him.
David fled barefoot up the Mount of Olives, weeping. He sent his friend Hushai back as a double agent to counter Ahithophel's advice. The gambit worked. Ahithophel had urged an immediate strike with ten thousand men—advice that would have ended David. But Hushai convinced Absalom to gather all Israel first, buying David time to cross the Jordan and regroup.
Ahithophel, seeing his counsel rejected, rode home to Gilon, put his affairs in order, and hanged himself. He knew exactly what was coming.
The battle took place in the forests of Gilead. David's seasoned warriors routed Absalom's larger force, cutting down twenty thousand men. Absalom, fleeing on the king's own mule, caught his legendary thick hair in the branches of a great oak. He hung suspended in midair while the mule kept running. Joab found him there and shot him through the heart—despite David's explicit command to spare the young man (2 Samuel 18:5).
When the news reached David, the king who had survived Saul, Goliath, and the Philistines broke completely. He climbed to the upper chamber and cried: "O my son Absalom, I wish that I had died myself and ended my days with thee." Joab had to threaten him to stop mourning—reminding him that his grief was an insult to the soldiers who had just saved his life and kingdom.