A Londoner born, was second son of William Aylesbury by Anne his wife,
daughter of John Poole, esq., and from Westminster School removed to
Christ-Church, Oxford, in 1598, where he became a fellow-student with
Corbet, and where, on the 9th of June 1605, they took the degree of
master of arts together.
Aylesbury, after he had left Oxford, became secretary to Charles Howard,
earl of Nottingham, lord high admiral of England, and in 1618, when the
latter resigned his office, was continued in the same employment under
Howard’s successor, George Villiers, then marquis, and afterwards duke
of Buckingham. Under the patronage of Villiers he was appointed one of
the masters of the requests, and on the 19th of April 1627 created a
baronet, and soon afterwards obtained the office of master of the mint.
He retained his places until the breaking out of the civil wars in 1642,
and faithfully adhering to the cause of Charles the First, retired with
his family, in 1649, after the execution of that unfortunate monarch, to
Antwerp in Brabant, and continued there until 1652, when he removed to
Breda, where he died in 1657, aged 81, and was buried in the great church.
He was “a learned man, and as great a lover and encourager of learning
and learned men, especially of mathematicians, (he being one himself) as
any man in his time.”
He had a son, William, who was a man of learning, and tutor to the two
sons of his father’s patron, Villiers, but died issueless in Jamaica in
the service of Cromwell in the same year with his father: and a daughter,
Frances, (sole heir of her father and brother) who, in 1634, became the
wife of Edward Hyde, afterwards earl of Clarendon, and was grandmother to
queen Mary the Second, and to queen Anne.
I have been the more particular in noticing what relates to sir Thomas
Aylesbury, since bishop Corbet’s advancement at court followed, though
it trode close upon the heels of, that of Aylesbury, which leads me to
presume that the latter was in some degree Corbet’s patron as well as
friend and companion.
A LETTER SENT FROM DR. CORBET TO SIR THOMAS AILESBURY, December the 9th,
1618. ON THE OCCASION OF A BLAZING STAR.
My brother and much more, hadst thou been mine,
Hadst thou in one rich present of a line
Inclos’d sir Francis, for in all this store
No gift can cost thee less, or binde me more;
Hadst thou (dear churle) imparted his return,
I should not with a tardy welcome burn;
But had let loose my joy at him long since,
Which now will seem but studied negligence:
But I forgive thee, two things kept thee from it,
First such a friend to gaze on, next a comet;
Which comet we discern, though not so true
As you at Sion, as long tayl’d as you;
We know already how will stand the case,
With Barnavelt[65] of universal grace,
Though Spain deserve the whole star, if the fall
Be true of Lerma duke and cardinal[66]:
Marry, in France we fear no blood, but wine;
Less danger’s in her sword, than in her vine.
And thus we leave the blazers coming over,
For our portents are wise, and end at Dover:
And though we use no forward censuring,
Nor send our learned proctors to the king,
Yet every morning when the star doth rise,
There is no black for three hours in our eyes;
But like a Puritan dreamer, towards this light
All eyes turn upward, all are zeal and white:
More it is doubtful that this prodigy
Will turn ten schools to one astronomy:
And the analysis we justly fear,
Since every art doth seek for rescue there;
Physicians, lawyers, glovers on the stall,
The shopkeepers speak mathematics all;
And though men read no gospels in these signes,
Yet all professions are become divines;
All weapons from the bodkin to the pike,
The masons rule and taylors yard alike
Take altitudes, and th’ early fidling knaves
On fluits and hoboyes made them Jacobs-staves;
Lastly of fingers, glasses we contrive,
And every fist is made a prospective:
Burton to Gunter cants[67], and Burton hears
From Gunter, and th’ exchange both tongue and ears
By carriage: thus doth mired Guy complain,
His waggon in their letters bears Charles-Wain,
Charles-Wain, to which they say the tayl will reach;
And at this distance they both hear and teach.
Now, for the peace of God and men, advise
(Thou that hast where-withal to make us wise)
Thine own rich studies, and deep Harriots mine[68],
In which there is no dross, but all refine:
O tell us what to trust to, lest we wax
All stiff and stupid with his parallax:
Say, shall the old philosophy be true?
Or doth he ride above the moon, think you?
Is he a meteor forced by the sun?
Or a first body from creation?
Hath the same star been object of the wonder
Of our forefathers? Shall the same come under
The sentence of our nephews? Write and send,
Or else this star a quarrel doth portend.