ballyhoo, hullabaloo, rumpus

An escutcheon can cause such a kerfuffle--especially if roses are white instead of red. And there's a whole bunch of history to look at, with the brouhaha bringing a white-centered red to the world.

Heralds bore shields with rather elaborate escutcheons by the dawn of the 15th Cent., and all it boiled down to was whom you liked among the children of Edward III Plantagenet. Once more, it's bravo Shakespeare:

"England hath long been mad, and scarr’d herself:
The brother blindly shed the brother’s blood;
The father rashly slaughter’d his own son;
The son, compell’d, been butcher to the sire.
All this divided York and Lancaster..."

And at the end of it all, what happens? The new mixed-up neither-red-nor-white king tries to marry his widowed daughter-in-law, but loses her to his younger son.
Who, in his turn, goes onto marry a total 6 times all sanctioned by the church, though the church also states he married... well, once. And he manages to find the time--despite 2 mistresses apart from the 6 wives--to order at least 72,000 known executions during his reign.

The white-nor-reds still rule England, and have in turn enslaved blacks, browns, yellows... all skins save their own motley version. Coz after all, in England, the queen doesn't even get to decide what to wear anymore.

Want an escutcheon, my knight?