For Villanova and the Augustinian Community, the Liberty Bell’s Sister Rings on as a Symbol of Faith and Freedom

The late morning of Monday, July 8, 1776, was bright and pleasant as the two bells of the Pennsylvania State House in Philadelphia-now called Independence Hall-began to toll.

A crowd congregated by the State House steps, on which stood Colonel John Nixon of the Continental Army. At noon, he would be publicly reading for the first time the colonies' Declaration of Independence from England, adopted unanimously inside that very building four days prior.

The bells-one in the steeple and one in the cupola of the clock tower-continued until Colonel Nixon bellowed its first words.

"When in the Course of human events…"

At his conclusion several minutes later, the bells began again, coinciding with jubilant celebrations across the city and four-day-old country, which lasted well into the night.

The bell from the steeple that rang that day now sits in a glass enclosure near that very site. It is perhaps the most well-known symbol of liberty in the world, visited annually by more than a million tourists.

The bell from the clock tower followed a less public path, becoming forever linked with a small Catholic order of priests called the Order of St. Augustine. For nearly 150 years, it resided at an educational institution founded by their first American members, an institution now known as Villanova University.

The leaders and citizens of colonial Philadelphia were displeased.

Earlier that year, in 1751, the Pennsylvania Assembly had voted for a bell to be made for the new State House. Speaker of the Assembly Isaac Norris, through the colonial agent in London, Robert Charles, ordered one to be cast by the centuries-old Whitechapel Bell Foundry. It was to weigh 2,000 pounds, cost 100 pounds sterling and bear specific inscriptions.

The bell they received met all those specifications. However, when it arrived in Philadelphia, it cracked upon its first testing and had to be subsequently recast twice, by local founders John Pass and John Stow. Many, including Norris, who wrote as much in a letter to Charles, disliked the tone of the bell when it rang. There were also fears that it would re-crack. It was in that same letter, dated November 8, 1753, that Norris requested a second bell, an exact replica from Whitechapel, which was speedily sent back to Pennsylvania.

Yet, by the time the second arrived, the populace had seemingly become accustomed to the original. Referred to then as the Old Bell and now the Liberty Bell, it remained in the wooden steeple of the State House. The new bell, originally called the Other One, but informally referred to as the Sister Bell in later years, was installed in the building's clock tower in 1754 to sound the time.

"For many years, these two bells were used to call assemblies, to announce events, to protest actions or simply to toll the hours," wrote the Rev. Louis A. Rongione, OSA, '36 CLAS, former Villanova librarian, in the first pages of his1976 book, The Liberty Bell's Sister.

They did so proudly and loudly.

Prominent Philadelphian Samuel Lewis Wharton noted in 1774 that they "can be heard in any part of the city." John Adams wrote to his daughter Abigial on the nation's first birthday expressing amazement at the "ringing of the bells all day and evening."

Aside from a brief time during the war, when both bells were smuggled to Allentown and hidden to keep their metal-perfect for making musket balls-out of advancing British hands, the Sister Bell chimed on alongside its sibling.

"It faithfully performed its duties for almost a century," wrote author Charles Frazier of the bell in a 1974 article for the Pennsylvania Magazine of History.

It was from then, intimated George H. Eckhardt in his book, Pennsylvania Clocks and Clockmakers, "a little-known story unfolds, which is an epic of the enduring principle of freedom of worship in America."

Affixed to the wall near the corners of the ornate entryway to St. Mary's Hall on Villanova's campus are four large mosaics, intricately crafted from ceramic and gold tesserae.

Designed and constructed by Angelo Lualdi Studios in Florence, Italy, the four pieces "depict paramount moments in the Order of St. Augustine's eight-century history," according to Jennie Castillo, curator of the University Art Collection and Gallery director.

One of those mosaics, titled Foundation of the Order in the New World, pictures a humbly dressed Augustinian friar, the Very Rev. Matthew Carr, OSA-who arrived from Ireland in spring 1796 as the second Augustinian priest in the United States-shaking hands with a uniformed George Washington in the streets of Philadelphia.

Tasked with raising funds to establish the first Augustinian church in the country, Father Carr solicited donations for his endeavor. He raised about $9,000, according to the Spring 2025 issue of The Augustinian. The most prominent of the 244 benefactors listed in his personal ledger were the sitting first president of the United States, as well as Navy founder Commodore John Barry, Founding Father Thomas Fitzsimmons and Philadelphia merchant Stephen Girard.

According to the 1884 History of Philadelphia, President Washington and Delaware Governor Thomas McKeon were also "said to have been present at the blessing of the first stone" of the new St. Augustine's Church, laid that September.

"These men might not have shared Father Carr's specific beliefs, but their action was a way in which the beautiful words put into the Declaration really became concretized," said the Rev. Michael DiGregorio, OSA, '70 CLAS, former prior provincial of the Province of St. Thomas of Villanova and caretaker of the Augustinian Heritage Room in the St. Thomas of Villanova Monastery, on Villanova's campus.

"The support for Catholics through gifts like these offered the hope that they could find a good home in the U.S.," added Kevin Hughes, PhD, chairperson of Theology and Religious Studies at Villanova. "If you look at the architecture of St. Augustine's, you see the integration of colonial American and more typically European Catholic motifs, which expresses that hope in wood and stone."

The friars of the Province of St. Thomas of Villanova opened the doors to their uncompleted North Fourth Street church in 1801, with Father Carr as pastor. Ten years later, they would establish St. Augustine Academy, a short-lived precursor to the institution that they would later open in 1842, 18 miles northwest on a Radnor Township property called "Belle Air," purchased from Revolutionary War veteran and Philadelphia merchant John Rudolph. That institution is now known as Villanova University.

"The academy is considered by our historians to be the precursor of Villanova," Father DiGregorio said. "They had this notion, and correct I would say, that if the Order was really going to take root and survive here, they had to have something more than that church in Philadelphia. This was an attempt to start a much larger foundation, and to do so through education."

But the church itself-and its growing number of parishioners-was very much still a focus. It was in a further functional embellishment to the grand building-not finished until the late 1820s-that the bell which originally hung in the State House clock tower would come under the stewardship of the Augustinians.

In 1830, Father Carr's pastoral successor, the Rev. Michael Hurley, OSA, and the City of Philadelphia formalized a sale that would transfer both the Sister Bell and clock from the State House to St. Augustine's newly-built steeple, where the former would be, according to the terms of the agreement, used for "religious and other purposes."

And it was, until May 8, 1844.

The colonial period in America was a time of cautious tolerance of Catholics; Maryland, after all, was founded as a Catholic colony and produced a Catholic signer of the Declaration of Independence in Charles Carroll. Pennsylvania welcomed and extended legal and political rights to all faiths, including Catholics. The Revolution itself also kept some tension at bay, largely owed to the aid of France-a Catholic nation-during the war.

But as the war faded into the past, a mistrust of Catholics began to grow. There had already been a feeling among the Protestant religious majority that Catholics could not factor into the politics or society in the new Republic, "where the people are sovereign, because they owed their loyalty to another sovereign in the Pope," said Patrick Brennan, professor and chair of Catholic Legal Studies in the Villanova University Charles Widger School of Law.

This sentiment persisted, despite evidence that some Catholics in America "knowingly distanced themselves from those traditional views, feeling that the Pope did not have the power to interfere in the politics of countries, just because there were Catholics there," Professor Brennan added.

By the mid-19th century, an influx of Catholics with more traditional views immigrated to the country, mostly from Ireland. They, said Dr. Hughes, were "more and more perceived as outsiders and threats," and eventually anti-Catholic sentiment reached a boiling point in Philadelphia.

On that fateful May 8-the same day 181 years before the Augustinians would experience perhaps their greatest day of joy with the election of Pope Leo XIV-they experienced among their worst days of sorrow.

Anti-Catholic rioters set fire to St. Augustine's in Philadelphia that night, destroying the building completely. The bell came crashing down from the steeple, shattering into pieces.

While St. Augustine's underwent its ultimate rebuild, so too did the Sister Bell. Sent off to Joseph Bernard's Philadelphia foundry, the fragments were melted and recast. The resulting bell, completed in 1847, is the same one that exists today. Its size was drastically reduced, most noticeably in weight: the recast bell weighed only 150 pounds, a fraction of its original mass.

"Reluctant to risk the possibility of a second outbreak of violence," and "realizing the historical significance of the bell," wrote Father Rongione, the members of the Order sent it away from the church to what was then Villanova College.

The bell hung above the crook of a large locust tree, on the west side of the campus' first chapel, built in 1844 adjacent to the original dwelling of John Rudolph. On the present-day campus, it would have stood near the walkway west of Alumni Hall, near the St. Augustine statue.

Its main use, according to Father Rongione, who heard this directly from a seminarian tasked with ringing it in 1915, was for "chapel exercises and meals." It was also used to signal class and other daily activities.

For 70 years it consistently tolled the daily schedule. Class. Mass. Meals. Repeat.

Outwardly, it seemed a curious fate for a known object of historical significance: in constant, heavy use outside and exposed to the elements. Whitney Martinko, PhD, a professor of History at Villanova and expert in historic preservation, argues the opposite.

"We might think today, 'Wow, that should have been preserved under glass,' but there are a lot of different concepts of preservation that say to make something useful is to preserve it," she said. "To bring it under the eyes of people who are walking by would be one way of preserving it, making it meaningful and showing value."

In 1917, the bell was loaned to the Augustinian St. Nicholas of Tolentine Church in Jamaica, NY, for the parish's own use. It was returned to Villanova in 1942 to honor the school's centennial celebration, where it was prominently displayed in the Villanova (now Jake Nevin) Field House before ultimate retiring to the Rare Book Room at Falvey Memorial Library.

There, Father Rongione-the one who would literally write its history-first encountered the bell.

Father Rongione was born in Aquafondata, Italy, a small valley town nestled in the peaks of the Monti della Meta in the country's Lazio region. His family immigrated to the United States when he was young.

After being received into the novitiate and ultimately professing his solemn vows in 1935, Father Rongione graduated with a bachelor's degree in Library Science from Villanova. He began teaching at the University in 1950, and a couple years later was instructing in Philosophy, Religious Studies, Education and Library Science, while also moderating the student newspaper, The Villanovan and, for a time, the campus radio station.

"He was a very talented man," recalled Father DiGregorio, who knew him during his own undergraduate years.

It was shortly after his return to the University that Father Rongione became fascinated with the Sister Bell. In what then-Villanova Public Relations Director Eugene J. Ruane called a "fitting turn of events," after eight years as Dean of Graduate Studies, Father Rongione was appointed to the position of librarian in 1962, and "became, in effect, custodian of the bell."

"He was determined that this bell, which hung with the more famous one and also heralded the Declaration of Independence atop the old State House in July 1776, would enjoy its rightful place in history during the Bicentennial year," further wrote Ruane in the foreword of Father Rongione's book.

A prolific writer, Villanova's librarian carefully assembled the authoritative-and only existing-complete text on this subject, published during the Bicentennial. He also initiated the construction of a new bell cradle, or yoke, that allowed for better display and more closely aligned with its sibling's. Ahead of the Bicentennial celebrations, he organized the bell's presence in the "Area Universities Bicentennial Exhibit" at the Penn Mutual Building. Father Rongione's dedication to fostering public knowledge about the bell undoubtedly charted the course for its preservation and celebration today.

"A lot of historians do the work they do to call attention something from the past, and to bring a critical lens to it," said Dr. Martinko. "Books, articles and lectures can spark that critical thought about why they matter."

Save for a brief exhibit in 2003 at the Independence Center, the bell remained in Falvey's Rare Book Room through the mid-2000s-decades after Father Rongione's passing-until it was moved across campus to the Augustinian Heritage Room in the monastery on the University's campus.

Amid other rare artifacts highlighting the history of the Augustinians, Province and University, the bell sat in its yoke, protected and on display, yet also somewhat secluded from the public.

In 2022, a decision was made that it was time to come home.

It is rather unsurprising, given the relatively unpublicized life of the Sister Bell, that the morning of January 13, 2022, yielded an unheralded transfer back to St. Augustine's Church.

A small team of movers loaded it into a trailer, drove it to the city, parked in front of the building and wheeled it on its yoke right through the front door, into a beautiful glass and wood display inside an old confessional near the back of the church.

This process had been initiated some time prior by the Rev. Bill Waters, OSA, '68 MA, then pastor of St. Augustine's Church, who had acted upon a feeling that had prevailed within the parish for a while.

"This is a very important piece of our parish, which itself is important in the history of the Augustinians," Father Waters said. "The bell is a symbol of the first church, and it also symbolizes its destruction and rebuilding. That fire didn't destroy the people. The building was rebuilt, and so was the bell.

"We wanted people to see it. We just thought it was time for it to go back."

The feeling was shared by Father DiGregorio, who took over as caretaker of the Augustinian Heritage Room following the passing of its longtime constructor and overseer, the Rev. Marty Smith, OSA.

"Father Waters saw the bell as something that could help enhance interest in St. Augustine's as a historical church," Father DiGregorio said. "I was provincial at the time, so the request came in to us. With my council, we decided it was a good idea given its significance to the church and that its return made it more visible."

The pomp and circumstance-probably the most ever directed at the humble bell-did eventually come, that May 7 at St. Augustine's. A "Welcome Home" ceremony was organized, featuring a mix of individuals and programming reflective of the bell's unique history.

The Most Rev. Timothy Senior, then auxiliary bishop of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, offered a scripture reflection. Prominent representatives of the City of Philadelphia honored its return with remarks. Father Waters led a prayer. The choir aptly performed "Sound the Bell of Holy Freedom," with dozens of parishioners in attendance to join the celebration.

"The ceremony provided real sign value of the bell's significance," said Father Waters. "It allowed us to say to tell the world that it's part of our history."

It is interesting to juxtapose the two bells from the State House and consider how their symbolic meaning today is both so similar and so different at the same time, given their journeys.

In many ways, the lesser-known Sister Bell represents the same principles its famous cracked sibling does: the ones penned by Thomas Jefferson and read aloud to the citizens of the new United States of America 250 years ago in Philadelphia, between both bells' tolls and beneath their cast shadows.

But this bell, created before our own nation, also represents much more. It has witnessed, with its sibling, a war for independence and the birth of a country. On its own, it has seen the destruction and rebuilding of a church, the growth of an institution of learning and, more recently, the global recognition of the religious order to which it is inextricably linked.

"The bell carries the history, in all its brighter and darker moments, of Catholics and Augustinians in America-the hope of religious freedom, the struggle to fit in, the beginnings of real membership, and finally a sense of real belonging," said Dr. Hughes.

"Father Carr would be overwhelmed at this fulfillment of hope that came from the courageous effort he dreamed to put in motion," Father Di Gregorio said, referencing the growth of the Order throughout the bell's life. "I don't think he could have imagined it. We can hardly imagine it ourselves."

For an artifact that has witnessed moments of immense merriment and dreadful despair, yet mostly has lived a humble, simple life, perhaps the most fitting description of its significance can be found in an equally humble, simple excerpt from the Welcome Home Prayer, recited during the ceremony at St. Augustine's in 2022.

"We ask that you bless this bell, the Sister of the Liberty Bell. May those who see it be reminded of the rich history of this parish. May those who see it be reminded of the great gift of liberty we have within our country."

As Father Rongione so aptly titled the epilogue of his book:

"Let Freedom Ring."

*Note: All uncited information and quoted historical texts and accounts were accessed via the Rev. Louis A. Rongione's book "The Liberty Bell's Sister," 1976.