Amid the dense forest on the eastern foothills of the Taunus, just a few centimetres beneath fallen leaves and roots, archaeologists came upon neatly stacked stones. They turned out to be the foundation of a small rectangular sanctuary about five metres long, hidden at the edge of the Roman fort of Kapersburg.
The fort, built in the second century AD on the northern frontier of the empire not far from present-day Frankfurt, has long been known to historians. But the adjacent civilian settlement — the vicus, where soldiers' families, traders and craftsmen lived — remained almost unstudied until recent excavations. Since 2024, specialists from hessenARCHÄOLOGIE, together with Goethe University in Frankfurt, have been conducting systematic work here, and in 2026 attention was drawn to a suspicious elevation in the soil.
Inside the rectangle, a smaller square room was found with three thick walls about half a metre thick. Apparently it was an ambulatory temple: a central shrine with a wooden door or gates, surrounded by covered walkways. Fragments of a dedicatory inscription point directly to a dedication to the god of war, Mars. Nearby lay fragments of a statue which, judging by all appearances, depicted the same god, and an almost complete torso of a winged figure with a palm branch and a laurel wreath — the goddess of victory, Victoria.
In addition, two votive stones with inscriptions were found, which Professor Markus Scholz is now studying. Such dedications were a common practice for Roman military personnel and civilians on the frontier: people brought gifts in the hope of protection in a dangerous land. The temple probably served not only the military but also the inhabitants of the vicus, linking everyday life with divine patronage.
Interestingly, a late antique fibula and fragments of hand-built pottery were found near the temple. These finds may indicate that the site continued to be used after the departure of the Roman garrisons in the third century. Perhaps Alemannic groups settled here, preserving the memory of the former inhabitants or adapting the old buildings to their own needs.
Such discoveries remind us how thin the soil is that separates us from the past: one storm or a small excavation — and a whole layer of human history comes to light. Religion on the frontier of the empire was not an abstract doctrine but a practice woven into concerns about safety, harvest and family. Every votive stone is a trace of someone's hope or fear, frozen in stone.
Such finds teach us to look more carefully under our feet: even in a familiar forest, answers may lie hidden to questions about how people lived, believed and continued to live after great upheavals.
