Photos by Sam Dean | The Roanoke Times

A prized fighting rooster is held by his owner, Billy Britton, whose family in Nottoway County has maintained the bloodlines of some of these birds more than a century. Being forced to scale back his operations has "taken a lot out of my life," he said.

For many cockers, cockfighting is a family tradition that dates back generations. Tommy Greene, a fifth-generation cocker, keeps many historical photos from years past, including this one of his father, Alvis Greene.

Billy Britton (right) is president of the Virginia Gamefowl Breeders Association. He and fellow member Tommy Greene suggest that gambling was frowned upon at fights.

For the Britton family, cockfighting was more than a pastime, it was lifestyle -- one that reached all aspects of their world, even the decorations in their home.

BLACKSTONE -- Rooster crows fill the humid afternoon air as Billy Britton meanders through a field of about two dozen pens holding gamecocks and hens.

Chickens generally live no more than 12 years or so, but Britton's family has maintained some of these birds' bloodlines for more than 100 years.

But after three generations and nearly 45 years of working with chickens, the 56-year-old Britton, president of the Virginia Gamefowl Breeders Association, is scaling back his operations because of a pair of legal punches landed by the U.S. Congress and Virginia General Assembly.

In 2007, Congress passed a law increasing the penalty for transporting animals across state lines for the purposes of fighting from a Class 1 misdemeanor to a felony. The General Assembly passed legislation this year that strengthened penalties for animal fighting and effectively closed the loopholes that allowed Britton and his colleagues to operate.

"It's taken a lot out of my life," Britton said as he walked around the field below his Nottoway County house. "I'm two years away from retirement, and I can do what I want: spend time with my chickens. But I can't do what I love."

The field is home to about 25 roosters of various breeds and sizes. Most are penned with a couple of hens and access to feed and water that's kept cool under a lean-to board.

Britton has spent a lot of time and money working to improve the quality of breeds such as Murphys and Roundheads. In addition, he occasionally crossed those breeds to produce qualities that make for a good performance in a cockfight.

"The Murphys put the fire in them," Britton said. "The Roundheads put the sharpness in them."

Many of the roosters are cockfighting veterans, some of five fights or more. But according to Britton, their fighting days are now behind them, and empty cages that once housed more roosters line the edges of the field.

Britton and fellow VGBA member Tommy Greene say VGBA-sanctioned cockfights followed strict rules: no drugs, no drinking, no minors, no open gambling. By outlawing cockfighting, they argue, authorities have done no more than to ensure that only outlaws will cockfight.

"What happens is the people who've been wanting order and setting rules get out, and then they're not there to police it anymore," Greene said. "There's the VGBA people and there's some other people. Why punish us? The law was more than adequate."

Bob Bushnell serves as commonwealth's attorney for Henry County, which was home to two VGBA cockpits. He said that Britton and Greene's portrayal of the VGBA cockfighting pits is a fantasy.

"I'm not aware of any true Disneyland, mom and pop, no-gambling-allowed cockfighting operation in the state," Bushnell said.

Greene wouldn't compare cockfights to Disneyland. But he argued that those who attended the fights once hosted at his Virginia Sportsman Club adhered to a strict code of conduct.

The club, in southeastern Virginia, was founded before World War II to provide a gathering place for shipyard workers who came from rural areas.

Greene describes the club's clientele as "gentlemen cockfighters."

The club has closed its doors to cockfighting, Greene said, but still hosts poultry shows and pig roasts.

Greene, a fifth-generation cocker, said the fights at the Virginia Sportsman Club were "cleaner than your high school football game on Friday night." Maintaining strict rules, he said, was good for business in that the gentlemen cockers didn't want trouble.

Gambling appeared to be something of a gray area. Britton and Greene suggest that gambling was frowned on, but the VGBA bylaws prohibit "loud open and blatant gambling ... as is specified by the laws of the Commonwealth of Virginia."

Gaffs -- which resemble curved ice picks that are attached to the rooster's leg -- and knives were used.

Britton said that with possession of gaffs and knives now a felony, he had his father's 50-year-old gaffs welded together for a keepsake.

Britton and Greene argue that cockfighting allows game fowl more of a sporting chance than seizure by authorities, in which case the birds are almost always euthanized.

"If you've got 100 roosters there, 50 of them can go home," Greene said.

John Goodwin, deputy manager of animal fighting issues for the Humane Society of the United States, doesn't like those odds.

"In those knife fights, sometimes the winner gets killed as well because the injuries are so severe," Goodwin said.

Goodwin lobbied heavily in the fight to fully ban cockfighting in Virginia, which began in 2007 when state Sen. Roscoe Reynolds, D-Henry County, carried a bill to strengthen the state's laws and make cockfighting for money a felony. The bill failed, but later that year, Congress passed its law to penalize those who bring fighting cocks across state lines with a felony.

Rep. Bob Goodlatte, R-Roanoke County, the ranking Republican of the committee that helped jump-start the legislation, said cockfighting is a "barbaric practice."

Britton and Greene said the VGBA suspended its cockfights after the federal law was passed and signed by President Bush in May 2007.

But just four months later, four men were charged with running a cockfighting ring in Page County.

Tom Bondurant, criminal chief of the U.S. attorney's office in Roanoke, said the Page County cockpit was operated by VGBA members. He said that despite the VGBA code of conduct, federal agents found both drinking and gambling at the event. Charges filed included conspiracy, sponsoring fights in which roosters were transported across state lines, possessing gaffs and knives for cockfighting, operating a gambling enterprise and money laundering.

Of the four men arrested, two have pleaded guilty and a third was convicted by a federal jury.

The same month as the Page County cockfighting indictments, former Virginia Tech and Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick's role in a Surry County dogfighting ring made national news.

State lawmakers responded with legislation that strengthened animal fighting penalties. The bill received bipartisan support and passed both chambers with a total of two dissenting votes. The state legislation seems to have put another nail in the rural tradition of cockfighting.

Britton and Greene said that while VGBA-sanctioned pits ceased operations in 2007, there were also ones run by "undesirable" operators. Those pits, they said, ran up until just before July 1, 2008, when the new state law took effect.