During the troubles between China and Russia concerning the early occupation of the Amoor and encroachments on the Celestial frontier, Selenginsk was an important spot.  It was often threatened by the Chinese, and sustained a siege in 1687.  A convention was held there in 1727, and some provisions of the treaty then concluded are still in force.  Mr. Bestoujeff, one of the exiles of 1825, was living at Selenginsk at the time of my visit.  There were two brothers of this name concerned in the insurrection, and at the expiration of their sentences to labor they were settled at this place.  Subsequently they were joined by three sisters, who sacrificed all their prospects in life to meet their brothers in Siberia.  The family was permitted to return to Europe when the present emperor ascended the throne, but having been so long absent the permission was never accepted.

The river was full of floating ice and could not be crossed in the night, and we ordered horses so that we might reach the bank at dawn.  Both banks of the river were crowded with carts, some laden and others empty.  A government officer has preference over dead loads of merchandise, and so we were taken in charge without delay.  To prevent accidents the horses were detached, and the carriage pushed on the ferry-boat by men.  The tamed unfiery steeds followed us with some reluctance, and shivered in the breeze during the voyage.  We remained in the tarantass through the whole transaction.  The ice ran in the river as at Verkne Udinsk, but the cakes were not as large.  Our chief ferryman was a Russian, and had a crew of six Bouriats who spoke Mongol among themselves and Russian with their commander.

From Selenginsk to Kiachta, a distance of ninety versts, the road is hilly and sandy.  We toiled slowly up the ascents, and our downward progress was but little better.  We met several caravans where the road was narrow and had but one beaten track.  In such cases we generally found it better to turn aside ourselves than to insist upon our rights and compel the caravan to leave the road.  The hills were sandy and desolate, and I could not see any special charm in the landscape.  I employed much of the day in sleeping, which may possibly account for the lack of minute description of the road.

The only point where the cold touched me was at the tip of my nose, where I left my dehar open to obtain air.  The Russian dehar is generally made of antelope or deer skin, and forms an admirable defence against cold.  Mine reached to my heels, and touched the floor when I stood erect.  When the collar was turned up and brought together in front my head was utterly invisible.  The sleeves were four or five inches longer than my arms, and the width of the garment was enough for a man and a boy.  I at first suspected I had bought by mistake a coat intended for a Russian giant then exhibiting in Moscow.