Edward Parsons Tobie Jr. (March 19, 1838 – January 21, 1900) was a United States soldier who received his nation's highest award for bravery during combat, the U.S. Medal of Honor, while fighting with the Union Army during the American Civil War as a sergeant-major with the 1st Maine Volunteer Cavalry.

With great difficulty he hobbled to the rear, but upon recovering his horse, which had been caught by the colonel's orderly, he mounted it and started for the field hospital, where he had his wound bandaged.

The regiment was on the march early next day, the plucky sergeant with it, and though his foot pained him greatly he did not hesitate and stay behind when the charge into the village of Farmville was made.

[11]In addition to his Medal of Honor award, Tobie's valor was also recognized via a good conduct mention in the Appomattox battle report filed by his superior officer.

[14][15] In 1889, he wrote a poem and history sketch about the 1st Maine Cavalry to celebrate the placement of a monument to his former Civil War regiment on at the Gettysburg National Battlefield.

The words of Tobie's poem heard that day were:[16] This sculptured soldier here,In readiness to mount and rideWhere duty’s call or country’s need Shall point the way, whate’er betide,With faith unbounded in his steed,And knowing naught of fear, With spirit that will facePrivations such as few endureAnd danger dire to life and limb,Face death, for love of country pure,And calmly meet his summons grim,Face aught except disgrace;— This sculptured soldier hereIs type of thousands, good and true,Who, six and twenty years ago,Stood on this field, brave boys in blue,Stood firm against th’ invading foe—And some lie buried near; Not only here they stood,But on a hundred fields of strifeThey stood ‘mid storm of shot and shellAnd offered life for nation’s life;They did their duty grandly well,—They did all soldier could.

This sculptured soldier hereEmbodies all the service grand,The days of suffering and pain,The hardships met on every hand,By nigh three thousand men from Maine,The State which we revere,— And all the weary hoursOf picket duty day and night,The campaigns ‘neath a southern sun,The march, the skirmish and the fight,The battles fought, the victories won,By these brave boys of ours, And all the throb and acheOf wounds received from fellow-menAnd illness nothing could appease,The dreary life in prison pen,The death by battle and disease,—All this for country’s sake.

That in the coming yearsThe spirit of these gallant menThroughout the land will e’er abide,And should our country call again,As many more will mount and rideWith neither doubts nor fears.In 1881, he was assigned by the editor of the Providence Journal to oversee that newspaper's Pawtucket, Rhode Island office, a position he continued to hold for nearly two more decades.