Colette H. Winn provides a superb introduction to the lives and works of three fairly unknown women: Marguerite d’Auge (15??–1599), Renée Burlamacchi (1568–1641), and Jeanne du Laurens (1563–ca. 1631). After a thorough background of the period and its culture, the editor embarks on a compelling examination of the intersections of gender, genre, history, memory, and religion, granting the readers an intimate glimpse into the three authors’ lives.

In The Pitiful and Macabre Regrets of Marguerite d’Auge (1600), Marguerite recounts her relationship with Jumeau outside of her marriage. After being beaten by her husband Antoine, who forbade her to see her lover, the two killed the husband. They were then sentenced to death and executed on 10 March 1599: Marguerite by hanging, and Jumeau by live dismemberment. At the heart of the short Regrets are its author’s confessions to the most important people in her life. She first addresses her husband and apologizes for her infidelity and murder. Next, she addresses her lover, and then, in a didactic mode, she warns other women to resist the temptations of carnal pleasures, urging them to instead remain chaste. After apologizing to her mother and mother-in-law, she turns to her daughter, whom she is leaving orphaned, and in heart-wrenching words she dares to imagine herself as a grandmother. These are undoubtedly the most poignant pages of the memoir, as Marguerite apologizes to her daughter for causing her father’s death and damaging her reputation because of her mother’s adultery. The text concludes with four sonnets dedicated “To the Ladies,” where Marguerite blames adultery, sincerely repents, and finally turns to God and his mercy.

Memoirs of Demoiselle Renée Burlamacchi Concerning Her Father’s Family (1623) describes the painful exodus of the Protestant Burlamacchi family, from Lucca to France and Switzerland. Renée, named after Renée de France, who protected the family in her castle of Montargis, crafts a real refugees’ plight riddled with despair and adversities. However, the text also shows the magnitude of some of her contemporaries, including Henri de Guise and Renée de France who readily sheltered the Burlamacchis from the grim fate shared by many Protestants. In fact, the family barely escaped the Saint Bartholomew’s Day massacre thanks to Henri de Guise, who hid them in his Paris house, although as Renée reminds us, “he was one of the instigators of the massacre” (48). Renée vividly narrates gruesome scenes of deprivations due to the family’s exodus in which many Protestants sought food and shelter. She would eventually marry Cesare Balbani, and after his death, she would marry the famous Agrippa d’Aubigné, although he does not appear in her memoir.

Finally, The Genealogy of the du Laurens described by me, Jeanne du Laurens (1631) is the longest and most meticulous of the three texts, as Jeanne recounts in great details her family’s history. Religion is central to the everyday thoughts and actions of her mother, father, and their eleven children. Jeanne is particularly absorbed in recording her brothers’ education, career choice, and accomplishments, as they studied medicine, law, or religion, and lived honorable lives. One of her parents’ teachings that seems to have been a guiding principle in Jeanne’s life was to “simply live according to God’s commandments” because “God will provide for your needs” (69). Jeanne also writes about her five children, and in these pages it is evident that fear of God, education, and dedication to one’s work are the common threads that bind the three du Laurens generations. She concludes by explaining that she wrote her memoir as a legacy to her children so that they would know the story of their ancestors who, because they raised their children virtuously, benefited from God’s help.

If gender and genre are central to all three texts, what connects these women and their stories the most are their unwavering faith in God and love for their families. Together with the introduction and its erudite notes, this book provides readers with a new and fascinating insight into three compelling microhistories that undoubtedly grant a better understanding of early modern France’s many cultural and religious complexities.