TEXT BWilfred Emmanuel-Jones was a teenager before he saw his first cow in his first field. Born in Jamaica, the 47-year-old grew up in inner-city Birmingham before making a career as a television producer and launching his own marketing agency. But deep down he always nurtured every true Englishman’s dream of a rustic life, a dream that his entrepreneurial wealth has allowed him to satisfy. These days he’s the owner of a thriving 12-hectare farm in deepest Devon with cattle, sheep and pigs. His latest business venture: pushing his brand of Black Farmer gourmet sausages and barbecue sauces. "My background may be very urban," says Emmanuel-Jones. "But it has given me a good idea of what other urbanites want."And of how to sell it. Emmanuel-Jones joins a herd of wealthy fugitives from city life who are bringing a new commercial know-how to British farming. Britain’s burgeoning farmers’ markets—numbers have doubled to at least 500 in the last five years—swarm with specialty cheesemakers, beekeepers or organic smallholders who are redeploying the business skills they learned in the city. "Everyone in the rural community has to come to terms with the fact that things have changed." Says Emmanuel-Jones. "You can produce the best food in the world, but if you don’t know how to market it, you are wasting your time. We are helping the traditionalists to move on."The emergence of the new class of superpeasants reflects some old yearnings. If the British were the first nation to industrialize, they were also the first to head back to the land. "There is this romantic image of the countryside that is particularly English," says Alun Howkins of the University of Sussex, who reckons the population of rural England has been rising since 1911. Migration into rural areas is now running at about 100,000 a year, and the hunger for a taste of the rural life has kept land prices buoyant even as agricultural incomes tumble. About 40 percent of all farmland is now sold to "lifestyle buyers" rather than the dwindling number of traditional farmers, according to the Royal Institution of Chartered Surveyors.What’s new about the latest returnees is their affluence and zeal for the business of producing quality foods, if only at a micro-level. A healthy economy and surging London house prices have helped to ease the escape of the would-be rustics. The media recognize and feed the fantasy. One of the big TV hits of recent years, the "River Cottage" series, chronicled the attempts of a London chef to run his own Dorset farm.Naturally, the newcomers can’t hope to match their City salaries, but many are happy to trade any loss of income for the extra job satisfaction. Who cares if there’s no six-figure annual bonus when the land offers other incalculable compensationsBesides, the specialist producers can at least depend on a burgeoning market for their products. Today’s eco-aware generation loves to seek out authentic ingredients. "People like me may be making a difference in a small way," Jan McCourt, a onetime investment banker now running his own 40-hectare spread in the English Midlands stocked with rare breeds.Optimists see signs of far-reaching change: Britain isn’t catching up with mainland Europe; it’s leading the way. "Unlike most other countries, where artisanal food production is being eroded, here it is being recovered," says food writer Matthew Fort. "It may be the mark of the next stage of civilization that we rediscover the desirability of being a peasant." And not an investment banker. Most importantly, people like Wilfred have brought to traditional British farming（）

A. knowledge of farming.
B. knowledge of brand names.
C. knowledge of lifestyle.
D. knowledge of marketing.