Shortly before his death, Alderman Alfred Cortis donated £10 to the Titanic disaster relief fund.

Not a lot by today's standards but it was the biggest personal gift to the appeal and typical of the man, who was the town's most generous benefactor.

Cortis donated £5,000 towards the establishment of a museum and art gallery and funded the search for a new drinking water supply at Broadwater following the disastrous 1893 typhoid epidemic which killed scores of people.

Despite bankrolling such worthy causes, he shunned publicity and very few knew of his generosity until he expired suddenly in October, 1912.

Cortis, dubbed the Grand Old Man of Worthing, was a striking figure, with a military bearing and distinguished silver whiskers.

He never married but devoted much of his time to improving the town and there was widespread approval in 1890 when he was appointed Worthing's first mayor.

It is ironic that Cortis breathed his last breath in the council chamber of the old town hall in South Street, just moments after delivering a typically eloquent speech.

The Sussex Daily News reported: "The circumstances of the passing away of Worthing's Grand Old Man were dramatic in the extreme."

Cortis was no stranger to heart trouble in later life and passed away almost instantaneously after slumping in his seat with a stifled groan.

Fellow councillors were rising to leave the chamber when Cortis, 79, appeared to faint and there was an instant cry of "doctor!"

The windows were opened to provide ventilation and Cortis was gently laid on the floor but it was apparent that he was already dead and an ambulance removed the body to his home, Liverpool House, as a subdued crowd looked on.

There was great sorrow in the town at his passing, as the distinguished elder statesman had lived in Worthing since he was born, on April 18, 1833.

Cortis, the son of South Street butcher George Cortis, was a corn and seed merchant operating the Corn Exchange near what is now Broadwater Bridge.

He took a great interest in soldiering and was quartermaster of the local territorials for many years.

The respected alderman was also one of the finest rifle marksmen in the country, representing England 21 times.

From 1861 to 1901 he won 611 prizes totalling almost £3,000, a huge sum in its day.

At Brussels in 1866 at a meeting open to the whole world, he won first prize, which was presented by the King of the Belgians.

Visitors to Worthing Museum can still see a superb oil painting, called The Last Shot, by artist Ponsonby Staples, which depicts Cortis at Wimbledon in 1887 during a major shooting tournament.

When Worthing became a borough, it was inevitable that Cortis, a staunch Conservative, would take up a seat, serving the Central ward.

He gave many donations to the poor and needy, and was so concerned about the infant mortality rate in the town he championed the Notification of Births Act, which resulted in a considerable reduction in the death rate among babies.

His obituary in the Sussex Daily News positively glowed with tributes, including: "He will be missed as a citizen, as a benefactor, as a member of the local governing body and as a friend to all who were in distress.

"His gifts to the town and its many institutions were numerous. The full extent of the Alderman's generosity to the town of his birth will probably never be known."

Cortis's funeral service took place on a squally autumn day at Christ Church, followed by interment at Broadwater Cemetery, off South Farm Road.

The Union flag was flown at halfmast from the town hall and the seafront lifeboat station as mourners gathered outside his home.

Every member of the town council attended and as the cortege passed through the streets, people lining the pavements raised their hats in respect.

One wreath in particular, taking the form of a target made of red, white and blue flowers, caught people's attention.

Members of the Christ Church Lads' Brigade formed a guard of honour at the entrance to the church as the coffin was carried in.

After the service, the respected alderman's mortal remains were conveyed to the cemetery as torrential rain poured down.

As soldiers fired three volleys over his grave and the shrill notes of a bugle were heard sounding the Last Post, Cortis was buried near to his mother and father.

Ninety years after the earth closed around his coffin, the grave can still be seen, having escaped the attentions of vandals, and a street in the borough now bears his name.