Earlier this year, Harriett Emerson made a horrifying discovery. She went into a chest to retrieve one of her priceless music manuscripts and found that it had been invaded by field mice, who had shredded one of the manuscripts and turned it into a nest.

"That will shake you up," says Emerson, a former concert violinist. "I realized it might happen again. And I could not allow those valuable works to deteriorate."

An American who makes her home near Powell, a small Texas town about 60 miles (96 kilometers) south of Dallas, Emerson had a vicarious connection to Prague. In the 1950s she studied in New York under Emanuel Ondříček, a noted violinist and teacher who, in the late 1800s, was a pupil at the Prague Conservatory, learning from such luminaries as Antonín Dvořák and Otakar Ševčík, one of the most famous violin pedagogues of all time.

In June, a letter landed on the desk of then-U.S. Ambassador to the Czech Republic William Cabaniss in which Emerson introduced herself, explained that she had Ondříček's entire repertoire of violin music — including pieces composed by him, and many more with his personal notations for fingering and bowing — and offered to donate it all to the Prague Conservatory.

"We appreciate very much her initiative and generosity," says Aleš Kaňka, deputy director of the conservatory. "The manuscripts have historical and pedagogical value, and given the fact that Mr. Ondříček graduated from the Conservatory, we feel his legacy belongs here."

For Emerson, the donation is a way of paying tribute to a seminal figure in her life. "Without him, I wouldn't have had the career I did — I owe him everything," she says. "The Prague Conservatory produced that level of master teachers in the late 1800s and early 1900s. And, if the conservatory helped him rise to that level, then his works should be retained there to be taught again."

Cultural ambassador

Emerson had a remarkable career as a violinist, mostly abroad. She studied music at the University of Texas, earning both bachelor's and master's degrees, then went on to Juilliard and private tutoring in New York City and Milan. It was her New York tutor, William Kroll of the Manes College of Music, who arranged for her to continue her studies with Ondříček.

"There were weaknesses in my earlier training that Ondříček recognized and worked with me to correct," Emerson says. "It's safe to say he saved my career. We spent eight very dedicated years together."

It wasn't easy. Ondříček was afflicted by what Emerson calls "the shakes" — likely some form of palsy — that left him physically trembling and unable to play. So he couldn't demonstrate technique to his pupils; everything had to be done by verbal explanation and notation. But both pupil and teacher persevered, preparing Emerson for a successful formal debut in New York City and one of the most unusual touring careers of the era.

Beginning in 1957, Emerson was enlisted by the U.S. government in what she calls "an experiment" to spread musical goodwill overseas. "America tried very hard after World War II to gently show the rest of the world that it had culture," Emerson says. "I was sent all over the world as an example of it."

Though her performing days are long behind her, it's not hard to see why she was chosen for the task. A tall, blonde woman with impeccable manners and a beguiling mix of worldly sophistication and down-to-earth charm, Emerson instantly commands any situation she's in. One gets a sense of her proper yet straightforward manner in a subsequent letter she wrote to Cabaniss, who is in his 60s, after he responded positively to her first missive: "How very gracious. Just what you would expect from a well-brought-up young Southern boy from Alabama."

Emerson was equally impressive as a performer. "It is rare indeed to hear an artist who plays the classics as a classicist, the Romantic period as a romanticist and modern works as a modernist, especially when the artist is so young. Is this the new American type of musician? We sat spellbound," raved a French reviewer. And this from Turkey: "Everything was there — style, intelligence and the breathtaking quality of the Americana group."

That last reference is to the American compositions she played, which ranged from the works of Aaron Copland and Samuel Gardner to black spirituals and jazz. "American music on the concert stage was new to Europeans at the time," Emerson says. "The pieces that I played were very spirited and joyful, and they always pleased the audiences."

Emerson was on tour in Europe in December 1958 when Ondříček died unexpectedly in his New York studio. The goodwill tours ended in 1963, and she retired from performing two years later, when recitals went out of fashion. She spent the next 23 years in the travel business, running her own agency, then in 1989 returned to her home in Texas to oversee the family business interests.

Musical homecoming

Donating a precious music collection is easier said than done, especially when it involves fragile manuscripts. An intermediary was needed in this case, so the U.S. Embassy contacted Mark Ludwig, a Boston musician who is the director of the Terezín Chamber Music Foundation, an organization devoted to preserving and promoting the work of the many artists who were imprisoned there.

"What I saw was an opportunity not only to give the collection to the Prague Conservatory, which seemed like the right fit, but also a way to further the relationship between our foundation and the conservatory, which share a lot of musical and historical links," Ludwig says.

The Terezin foundation will handle the actual transfer and, just as importantly, preserve the music in a digital format. This will allow the conservatory to keep the originals in its archives while having working copies available.

"There's a homecoming in having Ondříček artifacts at the conservatory," Ludwig says. "But what's really nice is that teachers and students will have access to the manuscripts if they want to use them for their studies."

The manuscripts will become part of a stellar collection of historic music and correspondence, ranging from rare medieval vocal works to the score Mozart used to conduct Don Giovanni in Prague. Exactly how Ondříček's manuscripts will be used remains an open question until conservatory officials have them in hand to study and evaluate.

A ceremony and concert have been scheduled for September 2007 to commemorate the donation. It's a long way off, but Emerson already feels better. "To be able to put this music in safe hands is a great relief," she says.