Gilmore went to work at once on his great project. Boston people thought he was crazy. Neither New York nor Washington would have anything to do with such a wild scheme. Failing to get any city to undertake the plan, he determined to do it himself. With his winning Irish ways Gilmore talked to millionaire bankers, conservative music leaders, doctors, lawyers and merchants, everyone of influence whose interest he desired. And he won their cooperation in almost every case. Julius Eichberg, the director of the staid Boston Conservatory of Music, agreed to conduct the chorus of 20,000 school children. Carl Zerrahn, Boston’s top orchestra leader, promised to direct the mammoth orchestra in several great works. Singing societies from far and near accepted invitations to join the grand chorus of 10,000 voices. They wrote for programs and soon the choral numbers were being practiced in countless towns and cities, all getting ready for the great event. Gilmore, producer or projector, as many spoke of him, personally carried out his gigantic plans, and neither his powerful energy nor his smiling good humor ever failed him. He wrote hundreds of letters and signed each one. “Praying that the grace of God be with the undertaking and direct it to a successful end.” Although there were great numbers of objectors and opponents to the stupendous scheme, Gilmore, undaunted, worked cheerfully on. Many hundreds of people gave money and help to the happy, confident originator of the plan. The date was set, June 15, 16, 17, 1869. The immense auditorium, 500 feet long, 300 feet wide and 100 feet high, was erected in St. James Park,--now the site of the Copley-Plaza Hotel. Thousands objected to the huge coliseum, saying that it would be unsafe for a great crowd. Parents protested against the 20,000 children’s chorus singing in the new untried structure. The school board reported this to Gilmore who cleverly suggested that the children sing on the _final_ instead of the _first_ day, after the building had been tested by the crowds at the earlier programs. The school board consented to this. The coming great Peace Jubilee was the talk of the whole country. Crowds were coming from great distances as well as nearby. Gilmore had won the consent of the railroad companies to sell half-fare train tickets to all visitors. The newspapers advertised low-priced rooms and lodgings. All Boston was hysterically excited over the gigantic celebration. When the huge bass drum arrived on a flat car--it was the largest drum ever made in America up to that time--the crowd of curious people completely jammed the railroad station so that no one could get in or out. In order to keep the thousands of musicians together in the performance, Gilmore had speaking tubes attached to his music stand through which he gave orders to his various assistant leaders throughout the band and chorus. Beside these tubes were telegraph keys to control the electrified cannon out in the park.