There are several antient _Chapels_ in this parish. That of St. Saviour, of which the east wall remains, stood on the brink of the precipice which overlooks the town: near Place-house, at the top of the town, was St. Sampson’s chapel: at Trethyllic, near Place grounds, was a chapel with a cemetery: between St. Saviour’s, and Stepper-point, was another chapel, the name of which is not known: and about a mile and a half from the town, that of St. Cadock, which had a tower, the pinnacles of which were used in rebuilding that of Little Petherick church. One of the schools founded by the trustees of the Rev. St. John Elliot’s charitable donations (1760;) and endowed with £5 per annum each, was established in Padstow. Two Sunday-schools, and several Day-schools, have also been established; by which several institutions for relieving the poor, and encouraging the industrious, are supported. Padstow contains, according to the late returns, 1702 inhabitants, or an increase of 204, since the year 1811. On Sander’s Hill, a handsome residence was erected a few years ago, at a very considerable expense, by the late Thomas Rawlings, Esq., but which is about to be taken down, owing to the death of that gentleman, and as the property cannot be disposed of. _Place-House_, the seat of the Rev. Charles Prideaux Brune, situated a little distance above the church, is an antient embattled mansion. It contains a few remarkable fine family portraits, and other works of art. The house has been lately beautified and enlarged at a considerable expense, and may now be ranked as one of the finest residences in the county. The western front with its circular tower and Gothic library window, has a very handsome effect. The _Rocks_ off the coast in the neighbourhood of Padstow, and the sand banks on the coast, not always visible at low water, have been the cause of many shipwrecks, and scarcely a winter passes without the occurrence of such dreadful calamities. The Rev. Mr. Warner, in his Tour through Cornwall, speaking of the dangerous rocks off this coast, says, “their black perpendicular heads frown inevitable destruction on every vessel that approaches them, and seldom does one of the unhappy crew survive to tell the horrors of the wreck.” Again she plunges! hark a second shock Tears her strong bottom on the marble rock. Down on the vale of death, with dismal cries, The fated victims shuddering roll their eyes In wild despair, while yet another stroke With deep convulsions rends the solid oak: ’Till like the mine, in whose infernal cell The lurking dæmons of destruction dwell, At length asunder torn, her frame divides, And crashing spreads in ruin o’er the tides.