In London, circa 1854, a movement started among the working class to allow the general public more access to cultural and scientific amenities. The National Sunday League, usually referred to as simply the Sunday League, started with a group of jewelers who wanted to have access to the British Museum, but could only visit on Sunday; for religious reasons, the museum was closed on Sunday.
The movement grew, and on September 7th, 1855 the League was officially formed, under the patronage of Sir Joshua Walmsley. While this was ostensibly a movement to open national institutions like museums, the Crystal Palace, libraries, public gardens, and art galleries on Sunday, it sometimes became entangled with other issues. In the whole, however, supporters of the Sunday League were strongly in favor of All Things Religious, We Swear, and they only wished that those who so wished might visit the museum after they were done with the mandatory Sunday church service; those opposed were convinced that God would not condone sharing his special day with any other activities, and were Deeply Concerned about those poor members of the working class that would be forced to work on their day off, all for the pleasure of their wealthier neighbors; and surely it was but a short step from the art gallery to moral turpitude.
1857, in particular, was a contentious year, with Sir Walmsley standing for Leicester in a contentious election. It is worth emphasizing that this was not entirely an issue of opening museums on the Lord's Day. Walmsley had a number of objectionable social policies -- free trade, popular education, liberty of conscience, and supporting the suffrage movement -- and mass protests and walls covered in placards angrily declaring that Walmsley was a godless infidel may have had more general political targets in mind than simply safeguarding the Sabbath. He lost the election (it was won by Dove Harris), but the League's fight was only starting. This year also saw the founding of the League's London Sunday Bands Committee, which was to bear fruit.
By 1867 the League was holding occasional educational lectures in the Crystal Palace, public lectures ('lay sermons') were being held in St. Martin's Concert Hall, and Sunday bands in public parks were proving popular. Meanwhile, the Lord’s Day’s Society was trying to get the use of St. Martin's on Sundays banned -- they succeeded -- and vile whispers that the League was in favor of Sunday trading were circulating (for context, most shops were not able to open on Sunday until 1994; in 1867 this was beyond the pale). It is perhaps worth noting that the Lord’s Day’s Society was just one of many organizations popping up to protect the status quo, with charters ranging from passing out Bibles to filing legal actions to shutting down the Sunday omnibuses.
In 1868 Baxter Langley restructured the St. Martin lectures as a form of religious meeting, with sacred music playing to ensure technical compliance with the law. He also stopped charging for admission, but instead charged for 'reserving seats', much as many churches charged for reserving pews. A new legal challenge was unsuccessful, and Sunday services consisting primarily of cultural and scientific lectures could now, legally, be held in public buildings.
In 1881 a complaint against the Sunday League following a riot at a bandstand made a point that the League was profiting from renting out chairs and programs; that the Sunday league was using the bandstand illegally (probably); and that the Sunday League Sunday Bands were preventing God Fearing citizens from enjoying peaceful afternoons in all parts of public parks. This rather makes me think that the Sunday League had won the battle for the parks; it was no longer a debate about the use of parks on Sundays, but rather a debate on who should use them, and how.
In 1885 the trustees of the British Museum voted to open on Sunday afternoons. The House of Lords voted to confirm this, and tied 64 to 64, with the Lord Chancellor breaking the tie with a vote to keep it closed. In 1886 the Lords reversed this, voting to open the museum, but the bill stalled in the House of Commons. It would take until 1896 for the museum to open on Sundays, but that bill would also open the National Gallery, South Kensington museums, and the Bethnal Green Museum.
In 1896 an interview in the To-Day weekly magazine focused on only two issues. First, the regular concerts in the Queen's Hall, acknowledging complaints but treating the legal issue as a settled matter (they included religious music, calling them 'sacred concerts', to get around restrictions). And second, their cheap -- and very popular -- Sunday trains: the League chartered trains to allow their members to travel on Sundays, apparently with the stated goal of allowing people to visit family members living in other towns; these trips included popular 'midnight excursions', leaving midnight on Saturday, spending Sunday at the destination, and returning in time for work Monday morning; thousands of people took advantage of this each week. The train issue may have been helped along by the fact that even Queen Victoria was known to ride trains on Sunday.
The Sunday League was starting to peter out at this point; a number of Sunday Lecture societies arose as the group splintered; specific battles over aquariums and museums broke out every so often; ties to the labour movement may have lead to the unemployment demonstrations in '86 and '87 being held on Sundays as a anti-Sabbatarian statement. But the League had won, more or less, in London, and if they continued to make only irregular progress in other cities, this was often a matter for less-than-national organizations. It is very hard to find information on what was allowed where and when, but the idea that Sunday was a day of rest had been debated across the land, and if local municipalities had come to differing decisions, at least it was now part of the public debate. Prince Edward was known to play cards on Sunday, and members of the House of Lords might be seen out on the Thames or at Grosvenor Gallery of a Sunday. Especially Good People might maintain the Sabbath as sacrosanct, but most people didn't bother.
By the end of the 1800s, the issue was perhaps also becoming less pressing by the slow -- very slow -- emergence of the idea that Saturday could be a half day, or, perhaps, even a whole day off. In 1879 Notes and Queries (a lexicographical journal) noted the term week-end was being used by some people to refer to taking Saturday afternoon and Sunday off from work. It was an exiting time to be alive.
It is also worth noting that the Sunday League was peripherally connected to a number of other Sunday-related debates: Should stores be allowed to open on Sunday? Should the post office run on Sunday? Should one be allowed to buy alcohol on Sundays, and if so, how? Who decided who could do things on Sunday? Compared to, e.g. the Sunday Trading Riots of 1855, the Sunday League was a middle-class, carefully managed, and milquetoast movement.
It is also noteworthy that right from the start of the debate, which alternated regularly between theological and social arguments, neither side limited themselves to one type of argument; there were plenty of theological arguments against keeping the Sabbath, and plenty of pro-Sabbath arguments focusing on the social benefits of a day of rest. The church, and the public, were no longer seeing religious issues in solely religious terms.
References:
The rise and fall of the Victorian Sunday by John Wigley, 1980.
A Lecture in behalf of the Sunday League, etc. by John Barling, 1856.
Forgotten Victorians: Sir Josh and the National Sunday League – 1867.
Minutes of Proceedings of the Metropolitan Board of Works, By Metropolitan Board of Works (London, England), 1881.
To-day: The Sunday League and Its Work, Volume 10, April 11th, 1896.