To spot Palazzo Chiablese, glance over at the large, understated brick building with simple pale shutters and a set of flags above the arched doorway-right on the edge of Piazza San Giovanni, near the Royal Palace.
Now that you’ve found it, imagine for a moment the centuries of whispers, laughter, secrets, and footsteps that fill this very square. Palazzo Chiablese isn’t your typical picture-perfect palace; it wears its history on its walls like a noble family keeps its old portraits-some tidy, some a little cracked, but all full of fascinating stories.
Let’s rewind to the 1500s: this was the era of dukes, intrigue, and lots of heavy coats. The Duke of Savoy, Emanuele Filiberto, had the bones of this palace set over pre-existing homes-if you look closely, you can still see the traces on the façade, echoes of lives long gone by. Now that’s what I call “doing a little home renovation.” The first owner? The mysterious Marchesa Beatrice Langosco di Stroppiana. Who was she, you ask? She was the duke’s secret lover, and he gifted her the property-nothing says love like a palace, eh?
Over the centuries, the palace became a real game of royal musical chairs. Cardinals moved in, then dukes, then princesses. Imagine Cardinal Maurizio of Savoy and his wife Ludovica stepping out onto the square in ornate clothes, or perhaps Benedetto Maurizio, the Duke of Chiablese (who gave the palace its name), hurrying from room to room, planning grand feasts and secret meetings. It was their home, but after them, even more royal characters came and went-each leaving a layer of dust, drama, and maybe a few broken vases.
By the early 1800s, during the French occupation, the palace saw no rest. Camillo Borghese, some say quite the dashing fellow, and his wife Paolina (Napoleon’s sister!) occupied these rooms with boxes of Parisian hats and perhaps a bit of tension about how many mirrors one truly needs. Once the Savoys returned, it became the home-and final resting place-of King Carlo Felice, who died here in 1831. But don’t get too somber; right after, it turned into the birthplace of Margherita, Italy’s first queen. Yes, the Queen Margherita whom the pizza is probably not named after, but it’s a tasty rumor!
The palace’s fortune wasn’t always abundant. During the Second World War, bombs rained down on Turin, smashing roofs, shattering windows, and destroying treasures-imagine the crash of glass, the sharp scent of burning wood, and the heartbreak as centuries-old furniture and delicate wall panels vanished in seconds. The most splendid bedrooms and the fabled “Chinese sitting room” were all lost. Even so, the palace held onto some secrets: among the furniture that survived was a marvelous two-part desk by the famous cabinetmaker Piffetti. Stolen and whisked off abroad, it caused more drama than an art heist movie, but luckily, the Italian authorities finally retrieved it in 2018. Hard to hide a giant, fancy desk, I suppose!
In the post-war era, Palazzo Chiablese had a new role. It belonged to the State and became not only an office for cultural authorities-protecting art, architecture, and history across Piemonte-but also a gateway for the public. Thanks to dedicated volunteers, visitors could explore lavish halls once reserved for the elite: the Swiss Guards Hall, the elegant Tapestry Room lined with 17th-century French tapestries recounting the legend of Artemisia, and the magical Gallery of the Swan. If you’re wondering if you can see all this yourself, the palace opens for guided tours a few days a week, completely free-unless you count the cost of being amazed.
Step a little closer and you might catch the scent of old, waxed floors and echoes of elegant shoes. The walls hold art by masters: Crivelli, Cignaroli, the great Beaumont. Over the doors, painted scenes by Guglielmi and others remind you you’re not just in a building-you’re in the heart of centuries of drama, love, war, and rebirth. Not bad for what started as a duke’s very fancy love letter!
