The phrase Hobson’s choice designates the option of taking either what is available or nothing at all.

It is generally—and erroneously—said that this phrase originally referred to Thomas Hobson (c. 1544-1631), a Cambridge carrier, who let out horses, and is said to have required customers to take the horse which happened to be nearest the stable door, or go without.

In The usual explanation of ‘Hobson’s choice’ is fallacious, published on Friday 1^st July 2016, I explained that it was only from the mere accident of his bearing the name that he did that the phrase Hobson’s choice was applied to Thomas Hobson.

Perhaps one of the reasons this phrase was applied to Thomas Hobson was that he was confounded with William Hobson, a London haberdasher who was born at the beginning of the reign (1509-47) of Henry VIII and who died at an advanced age in 1581. William Hobson was the main protagonist of the following early account of a forced choice from a number of horses, published in The Pleasant Conceites of Old Hobson the Merry Londoner. Full of Humourous Discourses and Witty Merriments. Whereat the Quickest Wittes may laugh, the wiser sort take pleasure (London: John Wright, 1607), by Richard Johnson (1573-c. 1659)—as “Reprinted from the rare original, and edited with introduction and notes” (London: Willis and Sotheran, 1866) by William Carew Hazlitt (1834-1913):

Of Maister Hobsons riding to Sturbrige Faire.

Maister Hobson on a time, in company of one of his neighbors, roade from London towards Sturbrige faire. So the first night of there iorny they lodged at Ware in an Inne where great store of company was, and in the morning, when every man made him ready to ride, and some were on horsbacke setting forward, the cittizen his neighbour found him sitting at the Inne gate, booted and spurd, in a browne studdy, to whome hee saide: for shame, Maister Hobson, why sitte you heare? Why doe you not make yourselfe redy to horsebacke, that we may set forward with company? Maister Hobson replyed in this manner: I tarry (quoth he) for a good cause. For what cause? quoth his neighbour. Marry, quoth Master Hobson, here be so many horses, that I cannot tell which is mine owne, and I know well, when every man is ridden and gone, the horse that remaneth behind must needs be mine.

However, the account written by Richard Johnson was evidently adapted from earlier accounts, in which the main protagonist remained unnamed. The following are two of those accounts:

1-: From Mery Tales, Wittie Questions, and Quicke Answeres. Very pleasant to be Readde (London: H. Wykes, 1567):

Of the two yonge men that rode to sturbrydge fayre.

One Iohn Roynoldes rode oute of London vpon a tyme towarde Sturbrydge fayre, in companye of a younge man of the same Cytye, that hadde not muche beene accustomed to ryde. Soo they came too an Inne where as great companye was lodged. And in the mornyng whan euery man made hym readye to ryde, and some were on horsebacke settinge forwarde, Iohn Roynoldes founde his compaignion sitting in a browne studye at the Inne gate, to whom he sayde. For shame man howe syttest thou? why doest thou not make thee redy to horsebacke, that we might sette forwarde with companye? I tarye (quoth he) for a good cause. For what cause quoth Roynoldes? Marye (quoth he) here be soo manye horses, that [I] can not tell whiche is myne owne amonge the other? And I knowe well, whan euery man is ryden and gone, the horse that remayneth behynde muste needes be myne.

2-: From the Facetiæ, an anthology of jokes written in Latin by the Italian scholar and early-Renaissance humanist Gian Francesco Poggio Bracciolini (1380-1459), first published in 1470—as published in The Facetiæ or Jocose Tales of Poggio. Now first translated into English. With the Latin Text (Paris: Isidore Liseux, 1879):

2.1-: Original Latin text:

JOCATIO CUJUSDAM VENETI QUI EQUUM SUUM NON COGNOVERAT

Loquentibus nonnullis doctis viris de insulsitate, stultitiaque multorum, narravit Antonius Luscus, vir facetissimus, cum olim ab Roma Vincentiam proficisceretur, addidisse se in suam societatem Venetum quemdam, qui perraro, ut videbatur, equitasset. Qui cum Senis divertisset ad hospitium in quo et alii permulti cum equis erant, maneque ad iter se quisque pararet, solus Venetus sedebat ad fores otiosus, atque ocreatus. Admiratus Luscus hominis negligentiam ac tarditatem, qui, cum cæteri ferme in equis essent, ipse solus quiesceret, admonuit, si secum proficisci vellet, equum ascenderet, causamque moræ percontabatur. Tum ille:—“Atqui,” inquit, “tecum ire cupio: sed equum meum minime inter alios recognosco. Igitur exspecto quoad reliqui equitarint, ut qui equus solus in stabulo remanserit, sciam esse meum.” Cognito hominis stupore, Antonius paulum commoratus est, quoad stultus ac stipes ille unicum relictum equum caperet pro suo.

2.2-: Translation of the Latin text:

A JEST UPON A VENETIAN WHO DID NOT KNOW HIS OWN HORSE

Learned folks were descanting upon the folly and stupidity of the generality of people. Antonio Lusco, a great wit, related that once, on his way from Rome to Vicenza, he had found a fellow-traveller in a Venetian, who, to all appearances, had never been a frequent rider. In Sienna, they put up at an inn, where many other travellers were staying with their horses. Next morning, every one was making ready for his departure; the Venetian, alone, sat quietly at the door, booted and spurred. Wondering at the man’s careless and cool composure, and at his taking things so easy when nearly every other traveller was already in the saddle, Lusco told him he had better mount his horse, if he intended going with himself, and asked what he was waiting for:—“To be sure, I am anxious to go with you,” replied the Venetian, “but I am unable to discern my horse among so many. I am waiting for the other travellers to start; when one horse only shall be left in the stable, I shall know it is mine.” Seeing the fellow’s silliness, Antonio dallied a while till the blockhead and stock had taken, as being his own, the only horse left in the stable.