Sweden in 1719 was a nation unraveling. King Charles XII, the warrior monarch who had marched Swedish armies across half of Europe, had fallen at the Norwegian fortress of Fredriksten the previous year. His death left Sweden surrounded by enemies and stripped of its Baltic empire. Russia, sensing opportunity, unleashed Admiral Fyodor Apraksin's fleet with orders to burn and pillage the eastern Swedish coast. Cities like Norrköping were reduced to ashes. The Swedish navy, shattered after two decades of constant warfare, could only watch. But Sweden still had one card to play: Vaxholm Fortress, the granite sentinel guarding Stockholm's eastern approaches. No fleet could reach the capital without passing under its guns—unless they found another way.

Apraksin knew about Baggensstäket. The narrow strait wound through the archipelago south of Vaxholm, offering a passage to Stockholm that bypassed the fortress entirely. Swedish intelligence discovered the Russian admiral's interest. Colonel Baltzar von Dahlheim responded with an elegant solution: his men towed boulder-filled boats into the strait and sank them at its narrowest points. A small redoubt with three cannons and 400 men completed the defense. Four Swedish galleys waited in Lännersta sound beyond, ready to catch any vessel that somehow squeezed through. By early August, Baggensstäket was a trap waiting to be sprung. When Russian scouts appeared around Gålö, Muskö, and Ornö—just 20 kilometers from the passage—the Swedes knew the moment had arrived.

The morning of August 13 brought confirmation: Russian galleys had been spotted at Baggensstäket's entrance. Colonel Rutger Fuchs received orders to move his regiment immediately. What followed was a brutal forced march through some of Sweden's most challenging terrain—rocky outcroppings, dense forest, and punishing summer heat. Lieutenant-Colonel Johan von Essen led the advance party, reaching the strait before 7 pm without encountering enemy fire. But the Russians had already landed troops on both sides of the channel entrance. As von Essen's exhausted men pushed forward, musket fire erupted from the fields around Skogsö farm. The lieutenant-colonel fell wounded, his unit pinned down and exposed.

Fuchs and the main battalion arrived at 8 pm to find von Essen's force in desperate straits. A marsh blocked the direct route to his beleaguered soldiers, forcing Fuchs to execute a flanking maneuver through tangled, hilly terrain as darkness gathered. The Russians heard the Swedes crashing through the underbrush and opened fire. For two confused hours, the battle raged in the deepening twilight—muzzle flashes in the forest gloom, shouted orders in Swedish and Russian, the crack of musketry echoing off the rocky shores. The tightly grouped Russian landing force took heavy casualties from Swedish volleys. When Fuchs began withdrawing into the woods, the Russians declined to pursue. By nightfall, they were climbing back into their galleys.

Apraksin's probe had failed. Unfavorable winds trapped his fleet in Baggensfjärden the following day, but the admiral recognized his opportunity had passed. An approaching English fleet under Admiral John Norris and the Swedish Karlskrona squadron were closing in. The Russians departed without reaching Stockholm. Rutger Fuchs emerged from the battle as a national hero, hailed as the "savior of Stockholm." His reward was promotion to Major General and elevation to the nobility as a friherre. Yet the Russian threat remained—Apraksin's fleet continued harassing Sweden's coast until suffering heavy losses at the Battle of Ledsund the following year. The Great Northern War would finally end in 1721, with Sweden stripped of its Baltic empire but Stockholm unconquered.