Al Marx was a professional boxer, known as the “Texas Cowboy,” who once fought the famous heavyweight John L. Sullivan.

In his youth, Al loaded cotton on boats in Galveston, Tx., and developed some reputation as a fighter. When John L. Sullivan came to town as part of his “knockout tour,” an offer was made to award $500 to anyone who could stay with him for three rounds, three minutes each. Local sponsor Pat Sheedy openly called for Marx to accept. Al took to the stage “having his own proper trousers turned” and held by his galluses. The fight, which was on April 10, 1884, was reported on the back page of the local newspaper:

The Slugging Match. Another fair audience greeted the Sullivan [contingent?] at the Tremont Opera House, which in a [part?] was due to the announcement that Al Marx, a resident, though hithereto unknown, pugilist, had agreed to stand up before the [scientific?] slugger for four three-minute rounds, or as much thereof as he was physically able to endure. Doubting Thomas, and his name was legion, [appositioned?] the coming to the scratch of the rash aspirant for p. r. fame, and confidently predicted a funeral, with the young man doing the [hearse] act, as the natural result of his temerity. Doubts of Marx’s non-appearance were not dispelled until the rising of the curtain, when both he and Sullivan were revealed advancing from opposite wings. All eyes were centered on Marx. To use the technical expression indicative of a superfludity of adipose tissue, he was beefy. His chubby face and generally soft look excited a spasm of sympathy, as for a victim to be sacrificed, though the gloves were the softest of their kind and Sullivan had even expressed “that he was sorry for the young man and didn’t want to hurt him more than he could help.”

Though the same height the disparity in the physique of the men was striking, adding to the surprise elicted by Marx’s lead with his right, finding a resting place on Sullivan’s collar-bone. Sullivan then left go with his left, landing on Marx’s left eye. Though it staggered him, he managed to recover in time to let drive and fall short with both hands before another another well-directed blow set him down. Lightly springing to his feet, he made a rush, got in a few slight body blows and again went reeling back with a bloody nose. On his feet again, and very groggy, Marx made another rush. A few short strokes [of] fighting, with Sullivan driving him before him, a dab at the right side of Marx’s stomach and three times down was scored against him. It required some effort, for him to horizontalize; he was winded and had drawn up his whole right side. Sullivan advanced to him, motioned to strike him, but realizing the helplessness of his enemy, said: “Do you want any more?” “No,” was the gasping reply and this ended the bout. Time - 55 seconds. Considering the capabilities of Sullivan as a hard-hitter, Marx escaped with very light punishment, which consists chiefly of a slightly discolored eye. Marx says of his feelings when struck that they were like unto a man standing under a pile-driver encased by a foot-ball, and yet he thinks it such sport that he immediately matched with a local boxer, to meet him with hard gloves for a hundred dollars aside.

Another brief account:

Galveston, April 10. - At the opera house to-night Al Marx, hithereto an unknown pugiilist, hailing from Kansas, but now a resident here, had a set-to with the slugger, Sullivan. Marx was knocked down three times in 50 seconds, and throwing up the sponge, escaped with slight punishment.

Following the loss, Al fought an amateur fighter named Jim Trainor at the Beach park in Galveston on April 27, 1884. It followed a racing event and was attended by 800 spectators, which was considered light. The fight was delayed when the the boxers wore dog-skin gloves with exposed fingers, and the officials made them switch to soft gloves. This caused a cancellation of bets. Trainor was described as being in splendid condition; Marx was “burdened with fat.” Within half a minute, though, Marx dropped Trainor with a straight left. Trainor appeared to feign trouble in order to lure Marx into a flurry that would tire him, but Marx “kept his wind.” Trainor went down several times, sometimes without contact, which elicited catcalls. The fight was not called until the 66th round, and Marx was “fresh as a daisy and laughing.”

The following week, a newspaper challenge in Galveston to fight Al with or without gloves for $50 to $500 was published by a Patsy McGlanctin, aka Darby, who made himslef available at the White Elephant saloon and added, “I mean business.” The outcome of this unknown, but Al is soon found on the undercard of fights at Krisch’s Hall San Antonio, where he was “worsted” by a Mr. O’Leary of Ireland. Because Marx was “of Sullivan notoriety,” the fight was a disappointment with O’Leary raining blow after blow, and bruising Marx’s left arm, “drawing the first claret of the evening.” In another fight that took place at Walker Hall in Waco, Al overpowered J.P. McHugh, a local printer, by knocking him down twice in the first round. All however lost by disqualification when he hit McHugh again when he was still on his knees, thus forfeiting the $500 purse.

Also in 1884, Al brawled with the established heavyweight Bill Bradburn in St. Louis. According to Bradburn in a newspaper account many years later, Marx put up $500 in St. Louis for John L. Sullivan or anyone to meet in a heavyweight championship fight. Sullivan could not go (for the evident rematch) but put up the matching bet and sent his friend Bradburn. The money was held by a newspaper editor and an argument ensued at the editor’s office. They brawled there in the office and completely wrecked it. According to Bradburn, perhaps not he most unbiased source of the story, the editor was persuaded to hand over the prize money to him when they were through.

In 1885, Al’s measure of fame for fighting Sullivan landed him in Madison Square Garden in New York. The Texas Cowboy began an undercard fight with Ike Williams of Bridgeport. When a “tip to the ribs” lifted Al into the ropes and angered him, hostilities resulted in heavy biting. After a separation the boxers would not cooperate in the next round, so the match was called off and the fighters ordered off the floor. Later that year, Al fought Frank A. Cook in New Orleans. In a brutal exchange with hard gloves, Al had the most effective punches. In the second, with Cook tiring and dropping his arms, Al connected with “a facer straight from the shoulder” that ended the fight. However, a police officer entered the ring to stop the fight, resulting in a draw. “Both men were badly used up, Cook’s face being terribly mutilated.”

In July of 1886, Al Marx was whipped in seven rounds by “Professor” John Donaldson, in Deadwood, Ohio. However, Al had his finest hour in the ring two months later in Omaha, where he fought for Nebraska’s vacant state heavyweight championship against Mike Fitzgerald. A round-by-round description shows that this was an excellent fight on the main card. Al staggered Mike in the first round, but had his nose bloodied in he second. There were mutual exchanges throughout but Fitzgerald was clearly flagging by the 6th. In the 8th, Fitzgerald could not get up after a ten count. Al received the state’s gold medal and was to receive all of the gate receipts for the 300 in attendance. Al then claimed he did not get the receipts except for $4. In the disagreement he was forced to vacate the title and return the medal when a defending bout was not arranged in time. A return championship fight however was then arranged with James McCormick, which was attended with great interest by 800. Al was reported to be 182 lbs. and in splendid muscular development, but “still somewhat flabby.” He decked McCormick in the first round. In the second McCormick appeared weak, bloody and dazed, but he suddenly hit Al with a strong left and then a right that staggered but did not drop Marx. However, Al then exclaimed that his jaw was broken and exited the ropes. A physician confirmed it. It was reported that Marx would have likely won but for the injury. A later account discusses a credible charge that McCormick’s gloves contained lead. The loss apparently ended Al Marx’s boxing career.

Aside from his boxing exploits, Al would give “strongman” performances. When he was in St. Louis for such a show he visited a saloon and bought drinks for the house. When pressed to perform a feat of strength, Al lifted a barrel of beer and carried it about on his shoulder, and issued a challenge for anyone to do the same. The brawny bartender, a 1889 immigrant from Luxembourg named John Grün, accepted and repeated the feat, costing Al a second round of drinks.

Aloysius, although necessarily crestfallen by the occurrence, being also a man of resource, sought to
turn the happening to profit. "Say, Samson," he whispered to John Grün as the latter was refilling his
glass, "how would you like to partner me in a strong show round the town? We would team well
together, I'm sure. How about it, young fellow?" The prospect appealing to John, he accepted, and so
came into existence "The Brothers Marx: Herculean Performers." Under this title, the twain toured the
States, happily and profitably for some time. Then they decided to come to England drawn by the
magnet of the even bigger money which "top men" in this business could pick up there. . .

During a performance in England, a self-promoting boxer professionally named Charles A. Sampson took to the stage to insult the Brotehrs Marx, and was rewarded with a terrific right hand to his jaw. There was tremendous publicity from this and the resulting police court proceedings, which greatly increased their popularity and fame.

The performance typically began with Al holding a massive stone on the top of his head. A man would step on a platform with a 14 lb. sledgehammer and with full force strike the stone until it split. “All that he had as insulation between the top of his head and the stone was a good had of hair.” John Grün’s remarkable feat was pulling a horseshoe apart, using the top side of his thigh as a fulcrum. He would first have ten men test the shoe with ropes on each end, pulling 5 on a side. Other feats are suggested by the advertisement that survives. The pair performed for some years, before parting. John went on to even greater fame, as the Luxembourg Hercules, performing with many circus acts and variety theaters. He developed other acts, such as tearing decks of cards, halting moving cars and lifting blocks of iron. He had an association with Harry Houdini and was generally considered the strongest weightlifter of his time.

Al’s life during this period is hard to track because he became a cosmopolite. In 1892 he had a permanent residence in New York, and was in Paris applying for a passport as a professional athlete. In 1897, he appears as a professional strongman and weightlifter in London, where two accounts describe the hospital death of an adopted son, an accomplished acrobat. He then had three sons in three other countries. In 1920, a passenger list for the S.S. Marina travelling from Sanchez, D.R., to San Juan Puerto Rico included Al as a 58 year old widower, Leonora Marx (17), Antonio (11), Manuel (10) and John (6). The 1920 Census shows that he was in Ponce, Puerto Rico with wife Aida R. and children Leonor, Antonio and Manuel. It is known within the family that Al’s wife and some of the other children died in 1919 and 1920, due to the Spanish flu epidemic. In 1926, he was a single passenger from Ponce, P.R., to New Orleans.

In 1930, Al was a widower and patient at the St. Mary’s Infirmary in Galveston, Tx. Aloysius’ death certificate in 1931 listed him as professional acrobat. His brief obituary gave no indication of his colorful past.