James was inclined to cling to the position at Ardee with its unfinished fortifications, which Avaux had always said would be useless. But the ambassador prevailed upon him to remove his headquarters to Dublin, where at least the soldiers would not have to live in huts that did not keep out the rain. Scarcely any of them had shirts, one-half were without shoes and stockings, and one-third were bare-legged. The country was exhausted, and the magazines recommended by Avaux and Rosen had never been built. When the camp was evacuated, many dying men were left behind without food or care. In the hospital established between Ardee and Drogheda, there were 300 sick without provisions, wine, or beer. There was no doctor, no baker or cook, not even an attendant to bring a glass of water. At Drogheda there were over 200 more in a disused church. One-third had palliasses, the rest lay on the ground, with scarcely any food, and no drink but bad water. Dublin itself was given up to riot and dissipation during the winter and early spring. The city, says Stevens, 'seemed to be a seminary of vice, an academy of luxury, or rather a sink of corruption, and living emblem of Sodom.' Other Jacobite accounts are much to the same effect. Among the worst drunkards was James's son Henry, who enjoyed the empty title of Grand Prior. He was Stevens's colonel, but scarcely ever fit for duty. Dining one day with some Irish officers he began to quarrel with them, and Berwick tried to smooth matters by drinking confusion to Melfort. The Grand Prior then declared that Melfort was his friend and an honest man, and ended by breaking his full glass on Lord Dungan's nose. James was willing that his son should fight, but Dungan very wisely passed the matter over as a childish ebullition.[248] [Sidenote: Incompetence of James.] [Sidenote: Lauzun is sent to Ireland.]